


A Court of Storm and Shadow

by AvoidingAverage



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama & Romance, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fights, Hybern, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Bad At Tagging, Illyrians, Magic, Mates, Mind Games, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pre-Canon, Romance, Romantic Soulmates, Sexual Tension, Sexy Banter, Soulmates, Why must everyone from Hybern be evil?, Will connect with canon, badass females, kickass fight scenes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2019-06-13 02:08:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 93,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15353871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvoidingAverage/pseuds/AvoidingAverage
Summary: The kingdom of Hybern is in ruins, ruled only by despotic generals left behind by a failed invasion. Only a captured Night Court spy and the bastard daughter of a king can hope to stop the next war before it can begin. Romance! Stryker/OC, Canon couples.





	1. Chapter 1

Hello and welcome to my latest story! I had a lot of people interested in Stryker, a side character from The Thief and the Soldier, so I decided to flesh him out with his own back story. This story is told from the perspective of his mate, Aria, and I am already in love with her personality and kick ass skills. 

I hope you enjoy this exciting new adventure!  
______________________________________________________________________

BEFORE:

 

I was born the unwanted daughter to an unwanted king. 

It’s never a surprise to find out that powerful leaders satisfy their cravings with whatever female or male attracts their attention—capital cities are filled with them truth be told—but it’s quite another to be the only child to a tyrant. 

My mother had the unfortunate honor of being an attractive female guard in the king’s personal household and it was only a matter of time before someone took notice of her. Rumor had it that she was even one of the king’s favorites, though it didn’t mean she was spared from his cruelty. 

When she learned she was pregnant, it was clear that she would no longer be safe in the capital city. Decisions must be made and my mother made hers the night she took me and ran for the mountains at the edge of our lands. 

Turns out, cold and hungry is a much more appealing sensation than cold and dead. 

Unfortunately for my mother, that choice was taken from her the day she had the misfortune to brush past a merchant carrying more than just his wares and fell victim to a plague following on the heels of the defeated army. 

That army became the first chance I had to get out of that Cauldron forsaken village and see what Prythian and Hybern had to offer. Of course, after being defeated by the combined might of Prythian’s High Lords and their human allies, Hybern’s army was little more than a shell of the mighty force it once was. Our king returned to his castle after the infamous Wall was erected and locked himself away with his closest allies to plot the day he could get his revenge. 

A defeated villain to be forgotten by a new generation.

His army was now little more than glorified scavengers, picking apart the villages and cities of our island for food and supplies in between raids on Prythian’s coast. Officially it was still under the control of generals like Brannagh and her twin Dagdan and Amarantha, but they didn’t care if their soldiers spilled innocent blood--just that they were prepared for battle at all times.

After years of abuse, our king finally took notice of the violence against his people when trade began to suffer and ordered his generals to do something about it.

And so the Arenas were created.

The premise was simple: instead of unleashing the pent-up frustrations and rage of a weakened and defeated army on civilians, the generals turned our aggression against one another. It started with a few wooden walls cobbled together around a dirt floor and evolved into dedicated stadiums with sand floors to help soak up the blood and viscera. 

Anyone who wanted to challenge their rank or the rank of another could battle it out on the bloodied sands of the pits to decide their fates. Winner received the rank and goods of the fallen. 

The loser died. 

Simple rules for a violent obsession. 

It was a brilliant solution to the issue with violence in Hybern and served a dual purpose of ensuring that each commander or ranking officer was more than capable of meteing out brutal violence when commanded. The perfect killing machines for a hidden, despotic ruler and his pets.

Rising up in the ranks outside of the Arena, took years of training and careful cultivation of countless political allies--unfortunately I’ve never been known for my patience, so I chose a more direct route. 

Beginning in the lowest levels, I clawed my way up from a lowly serving girl and messenger into a commander of a legion of my own, carefully chosen soldiers. In between matches, I trained daily, seeking out soldiers with odd fighting styles not taught by the crown’s trainers. A rolling dodge from a pickpocket from Jeva. Where to strike to make limbs go numb and muscles stop from a former monk born in the eastern arpellegio. 

Then I chose my victims.

It was easy to be underestimated when you’re female in a predominantly male army and I wasn’t above using that to my advantage. I chose fae with a reputation for violence and torture. Ones that were avoided even by other ranking fae for fear of their infamous tempers. 

Then I killed them, slowly when it suited me. Took everything they owned and left them to bleed out in the sands.

They called me cursed. A witch come to murder and maim any who stood against her.

They were right.

When it came time to create a legion of my own, hundreds of soldiers pledged to fight under my banner, but I turned them away. I had no interest in leading my own crowd of whimpering cowards waiting for the day to bring me to my own end one day. I needed soldiers who were as desperate to survive as I was.

Instead of looking to the training rings and battlefield counts for new members, I went back to where I began. I watched for the slaves with fury in their eyes. The broken. The chained. I gave them the tools to claim their freedom.

To fight.

We accepted only the most dangerous, most bloody missions and assignments and proved our skill each time we returned victorious. Each time we proved we were more than victims. Each time we proved that survival wasn’t enough. 

We would have vengeance.

 

In between rank bouts in the Arena, slaves and captives were marched out for painfully brutal battles that were little more than demonstrations to cow the rest of the prisoners into obedience. Each was given a rusty weapon or cudgel and instructed to kill their opponents for extra food or occasionally freedom. If they displayed talent, they could be recruited into whatever band bought them from their owners. 

I tended to avoid these matches whenever possible. Something about the desperation in the eyes of each slave struggling for life felt a little too similar to my own problems. I left scouting new members to Jace and Ifrit whenever possible.

Today I was on a hunt of my own.

A broad shouldered male strode out to the center of the sandy arena to the howls and stomps of the crowd. He grinned, gesturing for them to increase their volume until it felt like the makeshift viewing platforms would collapse under the weight of it.

“Soldiers!” He cried gleefully, “Heroes of Hybern! I have prepared quite the showcase for you today!”

The crowd roared their approval and I sighed, pulling up the hood of my cloak to try to block some of the smell of alcohol and sweat. My eyes tracked over to the largest of the viewing platforms where a group of fae sat watching the announcer with gleaming eyes. If I looked closely I could make out the sigils that marked them as leaders of some of the most powerful legions stationed at this outpost.

A snarling dog. The hissing coils of a nested viper. And finally, the hulking figure of a bear, inscribed in intricate detail to the armor of an equally massive male in the middle of the commanders.

Crissen was the pride of the king’s army trainers. Like the icon of his legion, he was known for his ferocity and bloodlust on the battlefield. He was also one of the reasons why the other legion commanders were so hell bent on destroying everything I’d built.

For that alone, he deserved to die.

But Crissen was infamous even in Hybern’s army for the way he brutally massacred any and every one of the survivors of hIs raids. “Females and children are just assassins in training,” he’d once told her before sinking his blade deep into the gut of a weeping woman.

I watched his scarred and rough hewn face tilt back in a laugh at something one of his flunkies said and scowled. Crissen was a classic bully and was happiest when he was surrounded by weaker fae. All the better to stroke his ego.

Problem was, he really was a powerful warrior. And, more importantly, not an opponent I could risk underestimating when it was time to finally challenge him.

The crowd began to boo and hiss around me so I let my attention return to the ring. Instead of the usual emaciated human slaves or would-be fae heroes, a lone male fae was dragged into the arena by four guards.

He was dirty, covered in the warded chains they reserved for the prisoners Brannagh and Dagdan ‘questioned.’ And furious. I could practically see the waves of his wrath curling around his body and something in me twisted at the sight of his struggle against the arena guards. 

“Today we have a special treat for you ladies and fine sirs,” The ringmaster crowed and the soldiers cackled with laughter. “Today, you’ll witness justice!”

The male was forcibly moved to the center of the pit where a scarred wooden post was mounted. At one point, he managed to get an arm free long enough to slam the heavy cuff against the nose of one of his captors and I watched the blood spray with a satisfaction that was short lived. His chains were attached to sturdy metal links embedded in the wood and tightened until his front was pressed tightly to the post with his arms stretched out to the sides. Quickly, the guards ripped the thin fabric of his shirt away to expose his muscular back to the ringmaster’s whip and the audience.

The crowd was practically in a frenzy now, their bloodlust rising with each of his feeble attempts to break free from the whipping post. My mouth twisted in disgust--there was no honor in this kind of exhibition.

“This Prythian coward attempted to kill one of our glorious generals and now he will receive the king’s justice!”

I looked at the chained male with more interest--just who did he attempt to off all by himself?

Almost gleefully, the ringmaster unfurled the leather whip that was mounted at the base of the commander’s viewing platform in a place of honor. Or pain--depending on what side of the whip you were on. Metal was braided into the stained leather to ensure the victim’s flesh split easily beneath it.

I shifted slightly in my seat, wishing I were anywhere but here. This was why I avoided the minor bouts and exhibitions. This was not a battle--it was a bloodbath.

Despite myself, I found myself staring down at the chain male, hoping that one of the other legions might step in. Claim him for a foot soldier or archer perhaps. He looked fit enough, even with the bruises left from his time in the stocks.

Dark, matted hair clung to his head as he slowly lifted his face to the crowd in silent rebellion and I found myself leaning forward to see more of this strange assassin. The guards had beaten his face black and blue, swelling one eye almost completely shut beside his newly broken nose. Despite this, his expression was defiant as the whip rose and fell for the first time.

His back bowed and white teeth flashed as he bared them in a near-silent hiss. Slowly, I stood, pushing my way to the edge of the crowd and clenched my hands against the rough wood barrier separating us. 

Don’t let them break you, I whispered in my mind. Don’t let them win.

Green eyes like the leaves from the trees that surrounded the home I was raised in met mine and my lungs struggled to fill against the tide of helpless rage lurking there. This, this was no victim. 

The ringmasters whip cracked through the air once more and I was moving before the decision could register. My arm flung out in a controlled burst of magic that shifted the leather mid air so it wrapped around my forearm instead of the broken body behind me. We were both breathing heavily now and I resisted the urge to look back at the male I sheltered with my body. 

“I challenge for ownership,” I snapped in the silence left by a stunned crowd. 

“You—you can’t do that!” The ringmaster blustered and I narrowed my eyes at him. 

“Failure to accept a challenge means you lose your rank in camp. Do you accept these terms?”

Mottled red broke out over his face and I wondered if he would pass out or manage to form the words that would decide how this confrontation ended. He eyed the glaive strapped to my back and finally summoned up his courage. And a massive axe that was easily as long as my leg. 

“When I’m done with you,” he promised with a lecherous grin, “I’m gonna get you a pretty little collar so you’ll learn your place, bitch.”

“I do love jewelry,” I remarked with a mocking smile. 

He growled as the crowd laughed, his face growing impossibly redder. I didn’t bother to draw my sword, just watched the muscles of his arms and face for the tell tale twitch of impending movement. Finally he lunged forward, the axe coming within a hair's breadth of my neck to bury itself in the ground at the foot of the wooden block the slave was still tied to. 

Tsking, I shook my head. “You’ll have to do better than that, precious. Come on, give it another try.”

Roaring his fury, the idiot did just that—only this time I didn’t just step out of harm's way. Moving into him, I ducked the swing of his arm and slammed the edge of my hand into his throat. The male coughed, gasping for air through his newly collapsed windpipe and reached for me with his free hand. 

I gave him a broken thumb for his trouble and enjoyed the way his screams blended with the cheers of the crowd. 

“They are a fickle audience, aren’t they?” I purred as I prowled behind my opponent. He struggled to get to his feet, dropping the axe in favor of using his unbroken hand. 

Not that it mattered anymore. 

Using my strength for the first time, I slammed my joined fists into the back of his neck, sending him tumbling into the dirt. The ringmaster gave a bleating cry of panic and began to crawl towards the exit of the arena, weapon forgotten in the sands. 

I picked up the massive axe and sighed, “You should have accepted my offer.”

Crying out in terror, he scrambled faster towards the tantalizing safety of the arena gates to the boos of the crowd. Stalking behind him, I raised the axe and left it fall. 

The crowd howled it’s pleasure as blood sprayed and bone crunched. I ignored them in favor of returning to my newest slave. 

He stared at me, one eye nearly swollen shut, and made a show of looking over my blood stained hands and clothes before smirking slightly. I bared my teeth at him, feeling ill tempered at the way this scouting mission had gone. I was supposed to be preparing to battle Crissen and instead I’d picked up another half starved, beat to hell slave. 

Thankfully the slave kept his mouth shut as I led him out of the arena by the long length of chain still attached to his manacled wrists. Ignoring the catcalls and jeers from the soldiers we passed, I threaded my way out of the main camp towards the close of trees where the rest of my crew was waiting. 

A tall, olive skinned human stepped out of one of the larger tents and frowned at me as I approached. “I thought we weren’t recruiting anymore members.”

“I changed my mind.”

Jace grinned at my irritated tone and followed me to the healer’s tent. “I hope this one can at least fight,” he said, giving a doubtful look at the bloodied male. “He doesn’t look like much.”

“They have him doped with fae bane so he’s got to have some kind of useful magic—which we could use. It’s the only reason I bothered with him.”

The lie slipped off my tongue easily and Jace eyed him with new interest. I still wasn’t ready to admit why I’d bothered saving yet another broken recruit. 

Pushing the thought away, I handed the chain to my second in command. “Get him healed up and clear the faebane out of his system, then bring him to me.”

I turned to leave, but paused when a rough voice called out, “Wait.”

Pivoting back, I eyed the fae slave. “What?”

“Why did you save me?”

Those eyes drifted over my face, searching for reassurance or answers. Both of which I wouldn’t—couldn’t—provide. “Move it, Jace,” I said instead and this time, I didn’t turn back.


	2. Chapter 2

The summons came within an hour and I tried not to growl at the knowing grin of Trask's secretary.

"You can go," I said with a dismissive wave. She gave me a mocking salute and turned to leave the tent, brushing past the tall, scarred female who was coming in. Ifrit bared her teeth at the secretary, clearly enjoying the way the female flinched at the sight of the massive scar across her neck and I smiled. "Ifrit, don't be rude to our guests."

Ifrit grunted and prowled over to my desk, her massive black wings tucked in tight to keep from brushing against the canvas ceiling. She stopped at the edge of my desk, her hands moving in a complicated pattern that ended with an emphatic slash.

"Yes, the rumors are true," I replied and rubbed my temples in an effort to alleviate the pounding headache that was blooming.

She scowled, the expression making the scar running across on of her cheeks turn white and puckered. The effect was heightened by her close cropped hair and the intricate tattoos that trailed down her neck to disappear in the collar of her fighting leathers. It was difficult to look at them without feeling anger stir in my gut.

When I'd found her, she'd been so pale and still, I thought she was dead. All those scars had been open wounds, bleeding weakly in the dim light of the high mountains. Whatever those Illyrian bastards had done to her had taken weeks of healing and nearly all of my meager power at the time to attain.

My only regret was that I'd killed her attackers too quickly.

What does Trask want? she signed.

"The usual, I imagine. He's never been fond of my recruitment methods."

Is it true he tried to kill one of the generals? Ifrit asked with an intrigued look that made me laugh.

"Apparently, if the former ring master is to be believed."

You killed him? Good. Her hands flew again and I felt the smile die on my face as I interpreted them. This is bad news, Aria. No general is going to let their failed assassin walk free.

"The rules of the Arena-" I began, but stopped when she signed again.

You know it won't matter. They'll just use this as an excuse to end you.

I sighed and stood, grabbing my glaive from where it leaned against my paper-covered desk. My fingers traced the familiar runes carved into the ironoak and avoided Ifrit's gaze.

She was right, of course. To survive in the army-to survive in Hybern-you exploited and cultivated the weaknesses of your enemies and competitors while hiding your own. My problem wasn't an excess of fighting tells or gambling debts, I thought as I stepped back out into the warm sunlight, it was them.

All around the simple canvas tent where I held most of my strategy meetings with my seconds, our camp was bustling with activity. Vaughn, my quartermaster, was overseeing a new shipment of grain and the repairs on the paddock where our warhorses were grazing peacefully. A harried looking footsoldier jogged past me, still pulling on his overcoat, in his haste to make it to the roll call with his unit. If I strained my ears, I could hear Jace barking orders to the unit on rotation today in the training ring.

This. This is what I had sacrificed everything for. What I would give my life to protect.

Ifrit stepped up behind me. Surveying your kingdom?

Grinning unrepentantly, I sketched a bow to her and began to walk back towards the main camp. A thought occurred to me and I paused, calling over my shoulder to her, "The male from the arena is from the Night Court." Immediately, all of the humor on her face disappeared and I felt like I could see the scars hidden all over her body reopen. I softened my tone, "If you don't want to see him, avoid the healer's tent."

Ifrit nodded stiffly.

Running my fingers through my hair, I glanced down at my bloody armor and took a deep breath. My magic stirred, settling around me like a storm wind and lifting strands of my dark hair to whip around my face and shifting the folds of the wine red cloak I wore. I settled the mask of confident disdain I wore each time I entered the main camp onto my face and left the relative safety of my legion.

The familiar sounds and scent of the army washed over me like the sensation of returning home. Old leather from the training uniforms and scout's armor. Hay and horses, stamping their annoyance at being saddled in the hostelry nearby. Catcalls and jeers from the soldiers I passed who were stupid enough to think I wouldn't overhear what they said to their friends.

This place had raised me, but it was no longer my home.

I'd made a point of moving my legion out of the main campsite and even separated our herd of horses and pack animals from the others. A simple solution to the number of fae who thought the best way to win power was through a carefully placed knife in the back. It even kept the odder members of my unit from drawing too much attention from unwanted sources.

All this was only possible by drawing their eye to a much more appealing and hated target: me.

I took my time moving through the camp towards the cluster of massive tents painted a dusty red like the color of old blood. I would not give any of the creatures lurking nearby the pleasure of thinking I was afraid to walk alone in their midst. Fear was a weakness and weaknesses got you killed in Hybern.

When I arrived at the command tent, I didn't bother to check in with the beady eyed male sitting at the small desk near the entrance. His nearly translucent wings twitched in annoyance at the slight, but he didn't have the balls to speak up.

Pity. I wouldn't mind getting rid of some tension in a quick brawl-that fight in the arena hadn't lasted nearly long enough.

Unlike the simple furnishings in my tent, General Trask's tent was a wonder of stolen and looted goods. My boots sank into a beautifully knotted rug from the Dawn Court depicting the golden rays of the sun while the scent of jasmine floated on the breeze from the delicately carved incense burners hanging from the ceiling. Thick pillows were piled at the edges of the room, adorned with pale skinned and barely clothed females whose eyes tracked my movements with competitive interest.

The rest of the room was dominated by a large wooden table, carved with a detailed map of Prythian and the island of Hybern and the smaller figures that denoted the movement of armies. Beside it was a broad desk covered in marching orders, shipping requests, and empty wine goblets. The pile was large, but the male seated behind it was even bigger.

Like most of the fae who spent their lives marching and fighting at our king's order, Trask's face was tanned to a leathery brown that highlighted the beginnings of wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth. Growing old was a feat in the army and he wore those markings with pride, just as he did the golden epaulets that marked him as the highest ranking officer in this region.

Trask didn't look up at my approach so I settled into the relaxed pose of a waiting soldier, hands clasped behind my back and feet shoulder width apart.

"I hear you were at the Arena bouts today," he finally said, putting down his pen to level a brown-eyed stare at me.

"Yes, general. I often watch the matches."

"But you didn't just watch, did you?" Trask stood, coming around the edge of the desk to step directly in front of me.

I didn't let his even tone fool me-his temper was worse than mine when he became riled. His breath brushed across my skin as he prowled closer and I forced myself to remain still, alert. Eyes focused to the back wall of the tent and face relaxed into a neutral expression.

When the blow came, I let it snap my head to the side, tasting blood from where my teeth cut into the side of my cheek. Instead of retaliating or flinching away, I settled back into my stance and returned my eyes to the wall.

"What do you think you were doing?" he roared, spittle flying to land on my rapidly swelling cheek.

"Recruiting," I replied cheerfully, exposing my bloodied teeth to him in a gory smirk. "Arena rules state that any-"

"Don't quote the damned rules to me, girl!" The next blow was an open handed slap to the other side of my face, hard enough to force me to widen my stance to keep from stumbling. At least now my bruises would match, I thought ruefully. "He is a criminal against the crown."

"A failed criminal," I growled, my own temper sparking to life. "I don't see you punishing any of the other commanders for scouting thieves, arsons, or murderers."

"The other commanders don't recruit slaves-" he spat the word like it offended him to even mention it, "-or washouts to man their legions."

"Do you have a problem with our results, general? Last I checked, we've completed every task you set before us."

Trask cursed viciously. "You and your damned legion-" he began, but I cut him off. "Yes, me and my Damned Legion. I earned the right to select my soldiers from where ever I choose and train them however I wish."

His temper sparked again at the reminder of how my troops had earned their title. What had started as an insult to the motley crew of rejects and slaves I led, had become the title for one of the most powerful forces in the army.

His eyes tracked over my armor to the simple pin that held my cloak in place and served as the symbol for my forces. The broken chain.

Slowly, Trask walked back to his desk and watched, uneasy at the abrupt disappearance of his temper. He gestured to a sheaf of papers at the edge of the desk, "You've been ordered on a scouting mission."

I stepped forward to take the sealed envelope. "When do we leave?"

His smile turned vicious, "By the end of the week. After, of course, the open challenges."

"Of course," I replied with an equally acidic look. "Wouldn't dream of missing it."  
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Hooray for a new villain to hate! Ifrit and Aria are #friendgoals-I love them together.

Let me know what you think in the reviews! Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing the first chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

“I had a feeling you’d be a runner,” I said quietly from my vantage point in the trees and watched with satisfaction as Stryker whirled around, pulling out the knife he’d stolen from the healer’s tent. He strained to make out my position in the night shadows and leafy branches. “Jace thought you’d wait a day or two, but you looked pretty stubborn.”

Jumping down, I raised my empty hands to show I was unarmed. He didn’t lower his weapon and I smiled. Smart male.

“I’m just here to talk.”

“About what?” he growled.

Without answering, I walked over to the top of the hill nearby that overlooked the lights of the camp as I settled onto the fragrant grass. Stryker hesitated and I patted the ground next to me. “Sit down. I won’t bite,” My smile turned wicked, “unless you ask very, very nicely.”

Stryker snorted and after a few beats of silence, sat down a few feet away, knife at the ready. I watched him watch me. “How’s your back?” 

“I hope you didn’t call me over to make small talk.” His voice was rough burr, like the burn of whiskey after a long night out. I decided I liked that.

“I’ll have you know, I am excellent at small talk,” I replied with another grin, “Fae from all over the world come to listen to my small talk.” 

There was a flash of white teeth in the moonlight and I leaned back on the grass, resting on my elbows to watch that smile get smothered by another frown.

“My back is fine,” he finally said abruptly. “Your healer is very talented.”

“I hope you didn’t attempt to harm anyone in your escape attempt.” That, I would not forgive.

“No. There was no need.”

Humming my agreement, I glanced at him sidelong, noting the way he was still watching me warily. His eyes lingered on the dark bruises left by Trask. “So who did you try to kill?”

Stryker coughed, clearly surprised by the question. “Why did you save me?”

“I asked first.”

Another smirk. “Amarantha.”

I whistled. “You have a high estimation of your skills if you thought you could get away with attacking her. She’s a nasty little beast.”

“I wasn’t planning on getting away with it.” 

The bleak acceptance in his tone made me grit my teeth. “That’s too bad.”

“Oh?”

Sighing, I stood and brushed away the grass and dirt from my pants. “I have no room for suicidal idiots in my legion. I want survivors.”

Green eyes flashed up at me. “Who said I wanted to join your legion?”

“Look around you,” I gestured to the fields of campfire, impatiently. “There is no way in hell that you will make it back to Prythian before one of the scouting teams drag you back to that whipping block--and this time I won’t step in on your behalf.”

“I won’t fight for Hybern,” he growled.

“Mother’s tits,” I groused with an incredulous look, “you’re an idealist.”

He bristled. “Your king is a monster. He seeks to rip down the wall and enslave the world like he did in centuries past--how could you be loyal to him?”

I threw back my head and laughed until the male looked like he wanted to strangle me. My eyes dared him to try. “I don’t give a damn about the king or his generals.”

“Then why do you serve him?”

My humor faded and I looked back to the smaller huddle of tents that held my tiny legion. “I care about them. In a few more bouts, I’ll be a high enough rank to qualify to break away from the army with all of my people.”

There was a beat of silence before he got to his feet, pacing distractedly. I wondered if he noticed that I’d lifted his only blade from him when he moved past me.

“Listen,” I began quietly, “all I ask is that you repay your life debt to me by shifting your loyalty to me and my unit for a year. If you decide to leave after that, I won’t stop you.”

Stryker halted his pacing, narrowing his eyes at me. “Why would you give me such an offer?”

“I could use someone like you.”

“You have plenty of soldiers.”

“You aren’t a normal soldier though, are you?”

He went very still and my smile turned feline. “I saw your tattoo.”

“What tattoo?” His attempt at ignorance was wasted on me.

With a sigh, I lowered my mental shields a fraction, smothering a gasp as a rush of night wind seemed to sweep in. You’re a daemati.

I could rip apart your mind with barely any effort. Gone was the injured male who’d seemed so inexperienced, so idealistic, just a few moments ago. In his place was a warrior honed by the cruel edge of the whips used to cow captured soldiers. I shivered when that invisible wind curled through me, raising goosebumps on my arms. “What do you want from me?” he purred into my ear and I took a step away when I realized he’d somehow gotten right behind me.

“Secrets.”

His eyes narrowed. “I won’t give away Prythian’s secrets.”

“I don’t care about Prythian’s secrets,” I replied, waving a dismissive hand. “I already know how to get those.” He growled, but I ignored it. “I need secrets and information on my enemies here.”

“Why would you trust anything I told you?”

“You have no allies here and, thanks to your botched assassination, no one will risk Amarantha’s wrath by approaching you--except me obviously,” I crossed my arms over my chest, trying not to grin when his eyes tracked the movement. Lingered. “I need information on enemies and plots to destroy everything I’ve built.”

And what’s in it for me? His voice whispered through my mind.

“When your year is up, I’ll help you return to Prythian. Where you can use the information to help whoever you want.”

The offer hung in the air between us, lingered like magic in a spell not yet cast.

Stryker watched me, looking like the great cats that preyed on anyone foolish enough to wander into their territory in the mountains at the edges of Hybern. Ready to pounce at the first sign of weakness.

“Swear it.” His rough voice cut through the silence like a whip and I blinked.

“What?”

“Swear that you will uphold this bargain and I will swear myself into your service,” he repeated steadily.

Slowly, I prowled over to him, crowding him until he stepped back, just to prove I could. “I, Aria, Commander of the Damned Legion,” I purred, “swear to release you to Prythian after your year of service to my legion is completed, so long as you follow the rules of our order.”

My chest burned as the magic gathering in the air settled into the skin at the center of my chest. I rubbed the spot through the training leathers I still wore. Damned Night Court members and their bargainer magic.

“Then I accept your terms.”


	4. Chapter 4

I stared at the curling black ink that now decorated my chest, dipping low into the space between my breasts. At first, I’d thought the tattoo had taken the form of a flower until I realized it was actually a stylized wind rose. A compass marker that dripped tiny stars down to my navel in clean, dark lines.

If I turned my back to the mirror, I knew I’d find the only other bargain marker I’d ever accepted running down the length of my spine. The symbol of my vow to keep Ifrit safe.

I’d given her vengeance for free.

This marker felt...different somehow. Like the bargain tied her to Stryker in a way Ifrit hadn’t asked for or needed. If I focused, I felt like I could almost see him in my mind’s eyes, trying not to scowl at the uniform laid out on his bed. A uniform that marked his new position as a member of Hybern’s army.

Tugging a soft sleeveless shirt over my head, I glanced up at Jace entering my tent before tucking it into my leather pants. He gave a sympathetic wince at the bruise that had blossomed into an alarming shade of purple. “I see your meeting when Trask went as well as expected.”

I shrugged. “We have new orders.”

“What ar--” Jace cut himself off as Talia and Ifrit entered the tent, signing animatedly toward each other.

Talia took one look at my face and hissed, “Son of a bitch!” The petite blonde bristled with protective fury that seemed at odds with her delicate features and large, sky blue eyes. I always thought Talia’s temperament was wasted with a healer’s gift, but I appreciated her frustration regardless. “I should strip the flesh from his bones!”

Despite her anger, her hands were gentle as they gently traced over the marks left by Trask’s fist, trailing cool numbness in their path. I leaned away from her with a shake of my head, “Save your strength--it’ll be healed in a few hours anyway.”

“Rat bastard,” she growled. Ifrit made a rude gesture as if seconding her opinion.

“Plans have changed. Trask has new orders for us that will take us away from camp for a week or more.” I gestured to a smaller version of the map of Prythian that hung on a wooden frame near the meeting table. “Ifrit, I know I said you could avoid him, but…” 

My words trailed off as Stryker pushed back the flap of the tent and entered the meeting room. Immediately his eyes went to the Illyrian female and his mouth dropped in surprise that I felt rippling down our bargain bond. 

Ifrit went very still, her wings tucked tightly to her back, not even breathing. Jace stepped forward, blocking Ifrit with his body and glaring at Stryker, “What are you doing here?”

“What is she doing here?” Stryker demanded, turning his attention to me. “How did you manage to enslave an Illyrian female?”

“I didn’t--” Ifrit threw out a hand in an imperious gesture for silence before beginning to sign, almost too rapidly for me to track.

I am a slave no longer. Here, I am free.

Stryker grimaced, watching her hands. “She said--” I started to explain, but he interrupted abruptly, “I know what she said.”

I gritted my teeth, watching the exchange. I was getting tired of being cut off.

“What clan are you from? Are you from one of the clans that betrayed the Night Court to join with Hybern in the war?” 

My clan no longer exists.

“What? Were you captured somehow then?” Stryker asked, looking confused. His eyes sketched over the sharp features of her face down to the massive scar across her neck and lingered there.

“I killed them,” I said brusquely before Ifrit could begin trying to explain her past or Stryker could ask any more questions. “All of them. Shall we?” I gestured to the table beside us.

The room went quiet.

Ifrit slowly nodded, taking a seat and staring at the map of Prythian. After a moment, Jace and Talia sat down on either side of her in a show of support. Stryker hesitated, but eventually sat across from them. I could feel his confusion and curiosity warring with each other through the bond for a moment before his shields slammed into place.

“Wonderful.” Grabbing the envelope from my desk, I stood next to the map. Keeping my voice clipped and business like, I gestured to the lanky male sitting alone on one side of the table. “Everyone, this is Stryker Nyx--my latest recruit from the Arena. He’s a daemati, which means he’ll be useful when we begin scouting for the next rank bouts.”

“Was he worth the beating?” Talia asked acerbically and Stryker’s eyes flew to the fading bruise on my cheek with sudden understanding.  
Jace looked at Ifrit and then back at Stryker. “How can we trust that he won’t sell us out?”

Impatiently, I tugged down the collar of my shirt to show my new tattoo. “We have a bargain.” I felt Stryker’s eyes like a brand on my skin and looked away when a warm flush curled up my neck. Clearing my throat, I pulled my shirt back into place and stared at each of my friends. “Now, can we get back to business?”

Why do you let them question you? A deep male voice whispered in my mind and my blue eyes flew to meet green.

I trust their judgement, I replied with a mental shrug. I would like them less if they didn’t question me occasionally.

“Trask is sending us out to recon the Wall.”

Talia cursed again. “That’s suicide.”

“We are to look for any weak places along the established boundary,” I continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “and mark areas where it is being patrolled.”

“There’s no way an expedition from Hybern can manage this,” Stryker growled. “The Wall is heavily guarded by the Spring Court and their High Lord, Tamlin.”

“Which is why I’m only asking the three to you to accompany me,” I replied patiently. “A larger forced will attract too much attention.”

And we are native to Prythian, besides Aria, Ifrit signed.

“We’ll fit right in,” Talia said dourly. “Just a human, an Illyrian, a wash-out healer, a failed assassin, and a Hybernese commander going for a walk through Prythian.”

“So we tell them we’re mercenaries looking for work. If they’re anything like Hybern, there will be plenty of former soldiers looking for work.” I looked to Stryker for confirmation and watched him give a grudging nod.

“When are they wanting us to leave for this impossible mission?” Jace asked.

“As soon as the challenge day is finished.”

A ripple of fury passed through the room, leaving only a baffled looking Stryker behind. 

“Bastard,” Talia spat. “Rat bastard.”

“What happens on a challenge day?” Stryker finally asked.

“You know the rules of the arena, spy,” Jace muttered, still looking disgusted with the situation. “Anyone who challenges their superior in the arena has a shot at earning a higher rank in the army. Commanders usually have seconds that fight in their place to keep from receiving constant challenges, but Trask banned Aria from naming one of us as her second.”

Talia broke in to level a hard stare at Stryker. “Our Aria has faced more challengers than any of the other commanders combined and they still come for her.”

“Talia,” I warned, “stop taking your temper out on him.”

“It’s the truth!”

“How many soldiers does she have to fight?” he asked her, eyes dark.

“Anyone who shows up.” 

Talia’s tone was full of righteous indignation and I sighed, running my hands through my hair again, “There’s no point in complaining about the way things are.”

Stryker looked to the rest of them, “Can she fight that well?”

Ifrit leaned forward with a feral grin, Better than any man you’ve ever seen.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, I rolled out of bed and into a pair of soft pants and a shirt the color of charcoal. Outside, I could smell the morning dew that hadn't yet evaporated in the weak sunlight of dawn. There was still a part of me that was surprised not to have my training lieutenant shrieking at me to get up or the hard slap of my captain for sleeping too late.

Old habits die hard, even after a decade of being a commanding officer.

Outside the camp was just beginning to stir with the sounds of early morning training and a few marching clusters of newer recruits. I braided my hair back into a tight knot that I knew wouldn't be disturbed by my morning run or the workout I planned to follow. With the challenge bouts only a day away, I couldn't risk missing a day of training or letting myself get out of shape. There was a long list of fae who wanted me dead and I didn't plan on making it easy for them.

When I pushed back the flap of my tent, I was surprised to find someone waiting for me on the other side.

Stryker leaned against an empty supply cart, arms folded across his chest and eyes focused on a group of fae skulking around the mess hall. I took the opportunity to look him over without worrying about him catching me staring. Talia's magic had taken care of the bruising and swelling on his face to reveal a masterpiece of masculine features, rugged and defined. The green eyes that had cut through me in the arena were framed by ridiculously long, dark lashes that made them almost eerily bright. Dark hair the color of chocolate curled over his forehead to the tips of his delicately pointed ears and I could see the rough shadow of a beard growing on the edges of a well defined jawline.

Do you think I'm pretty, commander? A husky voice whispered through my mind, intimate enough that it felt like I could hear his breath against my ear.

Get out of my head, I snapped and crossed over to face him. Lazily, Stryker turned his attention to me, raking his eyes over my body starting at the toes and working his way up until I felt a hot flush burn my cheeks.

But I like listening to the things you really want to say and do.

Narrowing my eyes, I gave him a slow smile and stepped closer until only a whisper of breath separated us. "Don't test me," I purred and enjoying the way his eyes jumped to my lips and stayed there. "Just because I saved you doesn't mean I won't kill you later."

Stryker's breath was warm on my face and I found myself wanting to move closer, to find out what his lips tasted like. How his eyes would look when I nibbled across his jaw. "You're doing it again," he whispered.

"Doing what?"

"Imagining me naked," he growled with a wicked grin and I jerked back. Immediately I snapped shields of impenetrable air and mist, blocking my mind from his before he could read anything else. Stryker watched my physical and mental retreat with hooded eyes.

"Don't overestimate your appeal," I said shortly.

He was silent for a long moment before smiling slightly and nodding to Jace as he walked by on his way to the training ring. "I didn't come here to flirt with you," he finally muttered and I wondered if he was talking to me or himself.

"So what do you want?"

"I wanted to talk to you about this," Stryker rolled up the sleeve of his dark shirt to expose a tattoo covering his forearm. Despite myself, I stepped closer to look at the mass of purple and grey swirls that covered his skin. At first glance, it looked like a mass of color, but on closer inspection I could make out the edges of clouds and even the flash of lightning. A storm. "Our bargain," he explained.

Stepping back, I rolled my arms up into a stretch, eyeing the sun rising on the horizon. "Can you run?"

"What?" Stryker frowned.

"Can you talk and run? I don't have much time before my next meeting and I can't afford to miss a day," I said. WIthout waiting for a response, I set off, jogging at a quick clip through the maze of tents towards the edges of the outpost.

He caught up with me after a few strides, long legs eating up the distance and matching my pace like we'd been running together for years. We passed through the edges of the tents and began making our way around the camp, occasionally passing a few soldiers jogging with their trainers.

"Do you always train alone?" he eventually asked.

"Talia hates exercise and Ifrit isn't a morning person," I answered with a shrug. "Jace spends the day in the training ring so it doesn't seem right to make him run more."

"Why did you recruit a human to train your soldiers?"

"Jace is deadly and driven-he was wasted as arena bait. Like the rest of my Core, they are vicious and more than capable of pulling their weight in my camp," I said shortly and increased my pace a bit more. "But I recruited you to spy for me, not investigate my leadership methods."

"Just trying to understand the chain of command."

I slowed to a halt on a hill at the outskirts of camp and gestured to the army below. "You should be more concerned with them. All of them are just waiting for the opportunity to end every one of us-starting with you."

Stryker's eyes were steady on mine. "So what do you want from me?"

"General Trask is in charge of this outpost," I explained instead, "with the help of his five chosen commanders who run their own legions. They're exactly the kind of soldiers the army is most proud of-nasty, brutish, and violent."

"I thought you were a commander here."

"I am, but I wasn't chosen by Trask. I earned it in the Arena," A breeze pulled free a few dark strands of her to curl around my face. My voice remained flat and matter of fact as I recounted my rise to power, "It decades of work to manage it, but I made a point of following Trask's and Arena rules to the letter so when I finally killed the commander of my legion, he couldn't challenge it."

"But then you started recruiting slaves and washouts," Stryker guessed and I raised an eyebrow in question. His lips quirked into a smirk. "Hey, even in the pits I heard rumors."

"The rumors were true-none of my soldiers came out of the ranks. Which is part of the reason why Trask wants to see me dead and why I made this bargain with you."

"You want me to use my power to ferret out the plots against you."

I nodded, "And help scout my next target to challenge."

"You're still challenging other commanders?" he asked with a frown.

"Trask and I have a deal-he doesn't gut me on trumped up charges and I stay in the arena."

"What-why? How does that help him drag you from power?"

Pursing my lips, I shrugged. "Everyone loses eventually in the Arena. All it takes is one mistake and he doesn't have to worry about an annoying, unwanted legion anymore. In the meantime, he looks like he follows his own rules and rewards those who win. Problem is, he didn't expect me to survive this long."

"How long?"

Surprised at the venom in his tone, I looked over at him, "Pardon?"

"How long have you been fighting in the arena?"

"Around ten years as a commander," I said softly, waiting for the fear that crept into the eyes of everyone who knew the truth of me. "Longer as a soldier."

Stryker went very still, his eyes hard. "How are you still alive?"

I smirked, wanting to ease some of the tension in his face. "I'm very, very good at what I do." When he didn't smile, I brushed away his concern with a dismissive gesture, "Don't worry about me-I just want to know about any useful weaknesses I can use to my advantage."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but just sighed and nodded.

"Excellent. Crissen, my next target, will be at the challenge bout tomorrow. See if you can root around in that thick skull of his for anything I can use. You'll know him by the bear insignia on his armor."

I pulled my knee up, feeling the burn of the stretch through tight muscles. Stryker watched me with a grim expression, "What if you die before the year is up?"

"Then I guess you're off the hook," I joked. When he didn't laugh, I sighed, humor fading quickly, "My team will make sure you make it back to Prythian safely, you have my word." I started running again, down the path back to the pile of paperwork and intel I needed to sort back at command before the arena games tomorrow.  
_________________________________________________________________

Yay for flirting! Stryker's charms are deadly, my friends.


	6. Chapter 6

There is a moment right before you step onto the battlefield. The soldier's minute, they call it. Sixty seconds where your adrenaline, your fear, and your rage surge through your system until you either charge forward or race back towards safety. The trainers spend hours trying to prep new recruits to control this moment, focus all that energy toward their powers, the strength of their arms, the slice of their swords through the air.

I wondered how long it had been since I'd felt that same breathless, naive anticipation at the thought of stepping into the Arena again.

Outside the waiting room, I could hear the stamp of feet on the rough boards of the viewing platforms, the screams of agony from the ones who came before me, and the pulsing cheers of the crowd begging to be showered in our blood. Inside was filled with the scent of sweat and fear from fae busy sharpening their weapons or watching the first fights through the thin slats of the wooden barrier. A roar from the crowd was met with sympathetic hisses from the ones watching from behind the slats, signaling the end of the exhibitions.

It was hedonism at its finest and I was the main event.

Despite every intention to focus on the fights ahead of me, my mind darted to where I could somehow feel Stryker watching in the stands. Like our bargain had created an intangible link between us. I could feel his attention drifting over the fighters to Crissen cheering in the stands before returning to the entrance to the fighter's alley where I was waiting.

I hoped he remembered my warning to lay low and stay close to my Core. There was a long list of fae that would love to publically gut him and score some points with the boss. Ifrit and the others would probably keep him out of trouble. Probably.

You should be focused on protecting yourself. Stryker's voice sounded distinctly annoyed and I smiled.

Are you worried about me, spy?

A snort of derision. Just worried that I won't get much information on Hybern if you don't come out on top.

I rolled my eyes and stood, stretching my legs and arms carefully. Around me, the other competitors watched with glittering eyes, looking for weaknesses. Anything that could help them when they faced me on the sands.

I let them look-it wouldn't be enough to save them.

As I moved through my warmup with my glaive, I carefully built up my mental shields until I could be certain my mind was my own. Daemati were rare in Hybern, but not unheard of. Then I dug deep, burrowing into my consciousness and tucking away the aspects of myself that could be harmed in the violence to come. Pity. Sympathy. Hope.

When the horn sounded the beginning of the challenge bouts, I was empty of everything but the primitive need to survive. My glaive was merely an extension of that desire.

Distantly I could hear the boos and screams of the crowd as I stepped onto the sands. Crissen's voice boomed over them, "Ten gold pieces to the fae who guts the bitch!"

I ignored him, walking out to the middle of the arena pit to face the officers' viewing platform where Trask waited. Slowly the crowd fell silent and the general stood to face them, "Today we test the skill and determination of our soldiers against the reigning champion of the arena!" Hisses and snarls drowned out his next words before he raised his voice again, "You know the rules-the commander must fight each of the brave soldiers who challenge her right to lead them. She will remain in the arena until each fight is completed or she dies in the sands."

Trask finally looked down at where I stood, watching him. "Do you accept these terms?"

I didn't need the reminder that we had our own bargain at play here. There was always more at stake any time I made my way into the arena, but I nodded to him anyway.

He grinned, "Then let's begin."

The crowd roared its approval and I stepped out of the center to watch the door at other end slowly open. Idly, I spun my glaive in my hands, the long staff and blade creating a breeze that shifted the sands around me. As I did, I let the noise of the audience die to a distant roar of white noise and narrowed my eyes on my first opponent.

He stepped out confidently, clearly enjoying the attention of his peers and the officers he hoped to impress. Dusty blonde hair was carefully braided back from his face to show off handsome features and bright blue eyes. His armor had been cut short on one arm to show off the bulging muscles of his bow arm, which he flexed for the crowd's approval.

Great, I thought with a grimace, he thinks he's pretty.

Moving faster than I'd anticipated, the archer snatched two arrows from the quiver hanging at his hip and aimed for my head. I watched his eyes narrow in concentration before sprinting forward, closing the distance between us in a blur of speed. Instead of retreating, he widened his stance and fired a barrage of arrows.

Not a bad strategy, if he were fighting on a battlefield.

I didn't slow my approach, dodging occasionally when an arrow came too close for comfort. He didn't realize his mistake until I was already too close-batting away the knife he scrambled to level at me and sinking it deep into the soft muscle between his third and fourth rib. We stared into each other's eyes until the light dimmed in his and he went limp.

I tossed the knife on the ground and looked over the new ringmaster, "Next."

They sent out one of the berserker clan members from the foothills of the jagged mountains to the north. Then an agile little swordsman from the infantry that managed to cut a deep groove across my thigh before I tossed his lifeless body into the stands. Then a flame wielding female from the mage corps.

The fights began to blur together. Just an endless litany of attack and evade. Block and slice. Blood and pain.

Leaning against my gory weapon, I wiped away a mixture of sweat and blood from my forehead, not certain if it belonged to me or one of the bodies beginning to rot in the afternoon sun. I was tired and beginning to feel the drain of the cuts and bruises that painted the exposed pieces of my skin.

The sun beat down on the sands, making it feel like I was standing in an oven and I tugged off the leather surcoat I was wearing, leaving me in my undershirt and leather pants and boots. My hair remained braided away from my face, threaded through with a spiked chain that Ifrit had given me last winter solstice. Anyone who thought to grab it would come away bleeding. I curled my lip at the sight of the blood and grime that was smeared all over me and wished this day would just come to an end.

Trask watched me with dark eyes from under his sun shade and I barely resisted the urge to give him a rude gesture. Behind me, the ringmaster stepped up to the podium quieting the crowd with a flourish, "And now for our final champion!"

The doors opened once again and I watched warily as another warrior stepped into the sunlight. Talia's shouted curse carried over the noise of the crowd and I glanced at my friends, pale faced and furious at the sight of my final opponent. Stryker's eyes jumped from him back to me, looking confused and worried.

A whisper of displaced air was all that warned me before something slammed into my side, throwing me against the wall of the arena. I rolled, dodging the next attack and got to my feet warily only now recognizing just who I faced.

Gorre was one of Crissen's lot-and one of the nastier members of his legion, at that. His grey skin gleamed with an iridescent sheen and I caught sight of a darker ridge of gills on the sides of his neck above his darker armor. From what I could remember, he was a water elemental and well known for his ability to wipe out entire squadrons in battle.

I was surprised Crissen would risk him in the arena, but one look at his smirking face made it clear that Crissen was the one who arranged this final battle. Why not take advantage of this situation while I was weak and tired?

The larger fae sent another blast of water at me and I barely managed to brush it away with a practiced flick of my glaive. The wood vibrated in my grasp, but held, giving me an opportunity to move away from the wall so I could have more room to maneuver.

"Use your bloody magic!" Jace shouted while I ducked another pulse, circling around Gorre and searching for an opening in his defenses.

I came forward with a burst of speed and swung the bladed end at his head, hoping to end this match before he could use more of his magic. Gorre blocked the attack with his sword, directing the next blast at my chest. The blow knocked the air from my lungs and sent me into the nearest wall with jarring force that made my vision tilt and blur.

Get up! A voice roared in my head, Aria, on your feet! He's coming!

Blearily I shook my head, trying and failing to get to my feet before the slow footsteps of Gorre came closer. I managed a weak swipe with the blade of my glaive that he dodged easily and followed with a kick to my gut that chased away what little air I'd managed to drag back into my chest.

Gorre grabbed the collar of my shirt and raised me up to eye level to give me a cruel smile, "Not so fast now, are you bitch?" I spat in his eye and he roared in fury, slamming me into the wall with bruising force.

There was a glint of metal in the light before I felt the tip of his blade sink into the right side of my stomach, pinning me to the wall like a bug. A scream of agony bubbled in my throat, halted only by my clenched teeth. I took a ragged breath, feeling the wood of my weapon slip from my fingers to land with a dull thud, landing in the small pool of blood dripping from my fingertips. I scrabbled with his blade's hilt, trying instinctively to pull it free.

Gorre grinned, displaying rows of sharpened teeth-far too many to be a pure blooded fae. "Wouldn't want you getting away before we have our fun," he purred, stinking of raw fish and blood. "Crissen promised a wagon's load of gold if I made you scream for all your fans."

"I guess that would be the first time you made a woman scream," I bit out and was rewarded with another stinging blow across my cheek.

"Let's see how long you manage to hold out then, hmm?"

His cruel smile and the feel of magic gathering in the air around us made me scrabble for purchase, trying to get enough space to kick away. To escape.

A thin trickle of water rose like a translucent snake to curl around the arm holding me to the wall. The sight of it made me struggle harder, but Gorre only leaned more weight against me, driving his blade deeper into the wood behind me. The stream of water moved closer to me, pressing against the seam of my lips.

"I know I get a bonus for making you scream, but I think he'll still be happy if I drown you on dry land, don't you?"

I sucked in a desperate breath as that water surged into my mouth and nose, trickling down my throat into my lungs. It rose back up to run out of my mouth like a fountain, filling my stomach until I felt like I was being held beneath the surface of some dark lake. Gagging and heaving, I thrashed in panic, eyes wide as my body screamed for air. My magic surged forward, begging for release, but I stubbornly forced it away.

"Aria!" The panicked shout cut through the thunder of blood in my ears and I looked towards the crowd. Talia was wild, screaming at me while Ifrit and Jace struggled to hold her back, their faces ashen. Stryker was leaning over the wooden barrier, face intense and I could feel him reaching through our bond.

Use your magic, he ordered. Damnit, Aria, don't let him-

Can't, I whispered back as the world around began to grey.

My shaking hands clutched at the wall behind me for purchase as my legs began to give way, driving the knife dangerously close to my spine. My lungs were burning, the sensation like acid in my chest. Gorre leered and leaned closer, clearly enjoying the sight of my slow death. My finger brushed against the cool hilt of his belt knife.

Aria, please, Stryker begged. Do something. Slowly, my eyes found him in the crowd, a bright green flash in the see of dusty brown uniforms.

So I plunged Gorre's knife deep into his gut, slicing upwards and through the wall of muscle on his abdomen. He cried out in shocked pain, trying to shove my hand away but I gritted my teeth and held on. I kept pressing forward until I could panicked pulse of his heart against my fingers. Until I felt the organ stop moving and his grip on his magic cut off.

Blood and water streamed from my mouth, tinging the puddles beneath me pink. I coughed raggedly, trying to dispel the last of the water so I could breathe again. Gorre's body slowly slumped to the ground and I was oddly glad for the blade still holding me against the wall.

It was the only thing keeping me from joining him.

Distantly I could hear shouts from the audience and the ringmaster's attempts to control them, but all I could think about was getting away from this hell hole. Slowly, I wrapped my fingers around the hilt of the knife inside me and, before I could hesitate, yanked it free from wood and flesh.

I awoke on my knees, head resting against Gore's corpse an unknown amount of time later. The voices around me sounded fuzzy and furious so I ignored them, feeling through the wet sand until my hand closed around the familiar handle of my glaive.

My old weapons master would have beaten me for it, but I used the long staff like a crutch, leaning heavily against it. My skin was clammy and sweat trickled down my back as I slowly raised myself off the ground, one hand gripping my glaive, the other pressed against the new whole in my stomach in an attempt to staunch the blood.

Running footsteps had me looking blearily up to see my friends racing across the arena, Stryker's long legs eating up the distance until he was right in front of me. His hands reached for me, but Ifrit grabbed his arm before he could touch me.

"What are you doing?" he snarled at her, "She's about to bleed out!"

Jace stepped between them, mouth in a grim line. "It's part of the rules-no one can assist the winner off the sands. She has to make it back to camp on her own or her win is forfeited."

Panting, I slowly hobbled forward, ignoring Jace and Stryker's argument in favor of focusing on the door to the fighter's alley and exit beyond. What had seemed only a few yards that morning had turned into a few miles of wretched agony. Ifrit and Talia remained next to me, hands clenching with the effort not to reach out.

"I should gut him for what he did to you," Talia snarled, looking helpless and furious all at once.

She already did, Ifrit signed, but I noticed the dark look she gave to the corpse behind us.

I didn't waste my breath answering them, too focused on avoiding the dark spots dancing at the edges of my vision. Only a little further, I coaxed my tired legs. Just a little further and we'll take a nice long nap. I staggered once on the uneven ground and nearly went to my knees at the blast of pain that came with the sudden movement.

Stryker and Jace met us at the doorway, hovering on either side of me and casting dark looks at the fae still waiting for their turn on the sands. Clearly, they were taking no chances that someone else might take advantage of my injuries for a promotion.

I wasn't sure if it took two hours or two years until I finally saw the familiar outline of our camp.

"Almost there, Ari," Jace murmured. "Just a few more steps."

My breath was ragged, grating like sandpaper down my abused throat. My legs were numb now and I kept losing my grip on my glaive. Ifrit's wings arched over me in an attempt to protect me from the blazing heat of the sun, but I wanted to tell her all I could feel was a cold that seemed to sink deeper into my bones with each step.

I tripped over something and fell hard on my knees, the impact knocking my staff from my hand. Gagging at the pain, I curled in on myself, unable to summon the strength to get back to my feet. I blinked up at the sky feeling like each breath was another knife in my chest.

Talia was running her hands over me, barely avoiding touching me. "She's bleeding out." Instead of her normal surly tone, all I could hear was fear.

My head tilted to the side, only just now realizing there was still a crowd of soldiers watching me. Making sure no one stopped the blood pooling around me or carried me the rest of the way to safety.

Watching me die.

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I felt the pressed of a cool night wind brushing aside my mental walls and filling my mind with the scent of summer grasses and starlight.

Get up.

The command echoed around my groggy mind and I blinked dully.

Get. Up.

This time I felt the command sink deeper into my bones, brushing away the dull agony of my body in favor of a mindless determination to get to my feet. I rolled to my side, breathing through the nausea to tuck my knees under myself and lever them into a standing position.

Walk, Aria.

Slowly I wobbled forward, the press of that command like a whip at my back until my legs collapsed again, shaking like a newborn calf.

Up. Keep moving.

The growled demand was stronger this time. Impossible to ignore. My knees straightened and I released my hold on my stomach wound to clutch both hands around my glaive for stability.

Faster.

Unable to fight against that voice, I moved forward, ignoring the sound of something slick falling at my feet or the panicked curse of Talia. All I could see was the simple scarlet flag stitched with a broken chain in white that marked the boundary of out legion.

Only a little further, keep going, the voice urged desperately.

But my body's waning strength seemed to end there and I fell, rolling several feet to lay in a broken heap.

Immediately gentle hands wrapped around my legs and back, lifting me into strong arms that seemed to shake in the wind that roared in my ears.

Stryker made an odd sound, "I'm running you to the healer's tent."

"Did…?" My voice was barely a whisper but he seemed to understand.

"You made it to the edge of camp on your own so those bastards can't take your win from you. Talia is furious you had to go this far, but you're going to be okay."

I coughed and hissed when the movement of his body jarred my battered body and I felt myself get lowered gently onto a cot. Cool darkness lurked nearby and I relaxed slowly, sinking in to that numbness.

No! Stay awake for just a little longer, Aria. The voice sounded impossibly worried and I smiled faintly.

"You aren't...the boss of me," I muttered faintly, over the sound of Talia's shouted orders.

Magic bloomed with blessed heat over my clammy skin and I finally sank into unconsciousness.  
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So I'm already in love with Stryker and Aria and hopefully you're enjoying them as much I do. :) This chapter was a little more dramatic than I initially planned, but I like seeing Stryker worry for his Aria.

Thanks for reading and let me know what you think in the reviews!


	7. Chapter 7

I came too slowly, fighting through what felt like layers of comforting warmth to the familiar sounds of the healer's tent. My body felt like I'd been run over by a team of horses and I took a breath through clenched teeth. Slowly, I blinked up at the ceiling and started to sit up.

Strong hands immediately pushed back at my shoulders, "Easy, Ari. Don't sit up just yet, your stomach is ready for it." He turned to call over his shoulder, "Talia! She's awake!"

Scowling at Jace, I heard the familiar sound of Talia hurrying over. "I'm going to kick your ass for that," I mouthed to him before wincing at her furious expression. "Hey Tali…"

"Don't even think about getting up," she snapped and I winced.

"It's fine-doesn't hurt at all," I offered, but Talia snarled ferociously enough that Jace quietly snuck out of the tent.

"It should," she hissed. "I should have just let you heal on your own after that stunt."

"Talia," I replied in what I hoped was a soothing tone. "I've had worse."

"Don't remind me," Talia snapped.

"Aww, don't be like that Tali. You know I wouldn-"

"Three broken ribs, a fractured jaw-" she counted each on her fingers while glaring at me, "-a slice along your thing that was an inch from cutting your femoral artery which would have made you bleed out in seconds, countless bruises and scrapes, not to mention the fact that you were essentially gutted."

I looked down at my hands, feeling sheepish. "You know I have to do this."

"You don't have to keep sacrificing for us!"

"If I don't, who will?!" We were both shouting now and I barely spared a glance when Ifrit and Jace came in looking worried.

"I watched your intestines fall out of your body," Talia snarled, "You died three times on that bed before I could finally stop the bleeding and you have the nerve-the absolute nerve-to tell me 'it wasn't that bad'?!"

Waiting for me to respond, Talia spun on her heel and walked out of the tent, leaving me gaping after her. "What's her problem?" I asked the others.

Jace and Ifrit exchanged a glance before he made a placating gesture. "You were...It was really touch and go for a while. Talia has been up with you for two days and-"

"Two days?"

Yes, two days, Ifrit signed. It was really bad, Aria.

"We were all pretty scared you wouldn't wake up, but Talia...she took it really hard," Jace explained.

"Shit…" I muttered, raking a hand through my hair and noticing someone had washed out most of the blood and brushed it out. Talia was the most quick tempered of the Core, but I knew it was mostly a show to cover for the fact that she was also loyal and empathetic to a fault. She may yell and curse at all of us, but I knew, at the end of the day, she would fight until her last breath to save her friends and family.

"I don't even know how you managed to get back to the camp. There was so much blood and-and you kept falling, over and over," Jace's voice was hoarse and Ifrit ran a comforting hand over his shoulder.

I sifted through my hazy memories of the trip back to camp after the arena. Of blood and a pain so intense I could barely breathe, barely think. I could remember falling to the earth and looking up at a sunny sky, clear and warm. And…

"Where's Stryker?" I asked abruptly.

Jace frowned and Ifrit arched an eyebrow. He's around. I'm surprised he didn't come rushing over when word got out that you were awake-he's been in and out of here pretty constantly. Her expression grew a little wicked, Almost like he's-

"We have a bargain, that's all," I interrupted. "He just wants to get back home with the rest of the good guys and heroes."

"Well I'm sure he'll be around soon," Jace replied in a soothing tone. He leaned forward to fuss with the pillows behind my back, plumping them until they sat a little more comfortably against me.

"What about Trask? Has he made any moves while I was out?" I asked Ifrit.

We locked down the camp before anyone confirmed how bad your injuries were, she signed. We caught a few spies and returned them to their handlers-minus a few limbs, of course. You don't need to worry about anything until you're cleared to work.

"I'm hurt, not brain dead."

You came close to being both.

"Why don't I bring you something to eat?" Jace broke in before I could get into an argument with another friend. "I'm sure you're starving after using so much energy healing."

They made their way out of the tent before I could protest, tying shut the door behind them. I sighed, mulishly considering trying to sit up again, but the memory of the dark circles under Talia's eyes made me pause. Huffing out a breath, I settled in to wait for some food and a chance to question my Core again.

I was asleep before they came back.

The next time I woke up, the sounds of camp were muted enough that I knew it was night. I ran a hand over the soft, new skin of my stomach. It felt strangely fragile and I pulled back the covers to see the soft pink that was once a ragged hole.

"Do you flash all of your visitors?" I whipped my head to face the speaker, clutching the sheets to my chest in surprise. Stryker grinned wickedly, "Don't stop on my account."

"I don't want you getting all hot and bothered," I sniffed, cheeks heating.

"I'll try to control myself."

"I'm glad you're here," I said, sitting up carefully and wrapping the sheets tighter around my torso. "I need to talk to you."

"About what?"

"About our deal and what happened after the arena."

His green eyes turned wary, but he pulled over one of the chairs, straddling it backwards to watch me. Stryker nudged a tray of soup and bread on the table next to my bed, "Eat something first."

I narrowed my eyes at the command, but didn't disagree enough to argue over something so small. "First, tell me what you've found out since I went down."

He waited until I took a bite of soup before speaking, "Crissen and the others have been trying to use this as an opportunity to get one of their flunkies to take your place as commander, but can't do so publicly without looking like they don't recognize the Arena rules. Gorre was Crissen's prize fighter from the first war and they never expected him to lose against a younger, less experienced officer. I expect they'll change strategies soon."

"I figured as much."

"Did you?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Challenge bouts for higher ranks only happen once every three months, unless that officer fails to perform their duties. It's too slow for most. They've been trying to kill me for a while now," I explained with a shrug.

"How?" His voice was sharp.

"A couple assassins have come through-even a poisoner once. It's part of the reason I started accepting more bouts and taking a morning jog around the camp."

Stryker made a rough sound. "You're drawing their attention to you instead of your legion."

"It's more efficient that way," I nodded.

"You are not invincible."

"Obviously," I said with a gesture towards the healer's tent around us, "but I'm much more durable than most of my soldiers. Trask and I have an agreement that keeps them out of this so long as I stay in the Arena."

"Is that why you aren't fighting at full strength?"

I looked up at him in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

Stryker leaned forward, eyes narrowed. "Why didn't you use your magic in the Arena?"

"Maybe I don't have any."

"Don't. Lie." he snarled and I frowned.

"Why do you care? I already told you that you'll get to go home even if they manage to kill me."

He blinked and leaned back in his chair, flicking a bit of dust off his pants and looking pensive. "I'll trade you a secret for a secret," Stryker said abruptly.

I blinked, confused. "Why are you acting so strange?"

"Do you accept the trade?"

Hesitating, I watched him for a long moment before nodding. "Fine. I don't use magic in the arena because Trask swore that if I didn't he would keep this between us and not target any of my Core or my soldiers."

Stryker cursed, "You could have died."

"All soldiers accept that possibility," I shrugged. "It's worth the risk."

"I disagree."

I wasn't sure what to say to that, so I changed the subject. "My turn. Do you intend to use the information you gather here against us when our bargain is complete?"

"No."

I was surprised at the relief I felt at the honesty in his voice. It released a piece of tension I hadn't been aware of holding. If my act of mercy led to the suffering of my family I wouldn't forgive myself.

"Do you intend to stay in the army?"

Shrugging, I refocused on the strange game I was playing with a spy. "No. If I can climb to a high enough rank through the arena, I can form an independent company and have more control." I met his gaze steadily, "We both know that Hybern will eventually invade Prythian again and I have no intention of fighting in that particular war."

He smile and my eyes widened slightly at the relief there. "Your turn."

"Why Amarantha? She's a nasty piece of work and I can't imagine it was easy to even get close enough to kill her without even factoring in a success route."

His smile died and I almost wished I hadn't asked the question. When he spoke again, his voice was devoid of the teasing humor that it normally had, replaced by a fierce anger that made goosebumps break out on my skin. "Amarantha captured, tortured, and killed my legion. She let her beasts torture my commander for weeks while we watched, helpless and trapped in our own nightmares. The only reason I survived is that a commander passing through the region wanted a few 'bait beasts' for his region's arena. The others died, but I stayed alive for the sole purpose of ending her."

His words cut off abruptly, like it hurt something in him to say that much. I took a bite of my now cold soup, barely tasting it and picked at the piece of soft bread beside it.

"Your turn," I finally said, hoping to chase away some of the shadows in his eyes.

Stryker blinked and glanced down at his hands, looking almost...vulnerable. "Why did you save me?"

"I should ask you the same question," I replied with a sharp smile. "Unless my mind has finally cracked and I'm hearing voices."

"It's not your turn."

I contemplated sticking my tongue out at him, but after seeing the pain on his face at the mention of Amarantha, I hesitated. "I...I'm not sure why I stopped it," I began slowly, gifting him with that honesty. "I hadn't planned on recruiting any more soldiers for a while, but...it didn't feel right to let that whip fall-" His eyes felt like they were boring into my skin, warming me. "-I moved before the decision even registered. One moment I was hiding in the stands watching Crissen, the next I was catching the whip and declaring that you were one of mine."

My heart thundered in my chest at the memory of the blood and pain on the sands. So much more damaging than even the wounds from my own bouts.

I cleared my throat, swallowing down the panic I'd felt in that moment. "So why did you help me make it back to camp?" My voice was husky and raw at the memory of those implacable commands. "You could have just returned to your home."

Stryker shifted in his chair and I felt his mind brush against mine in a soft caress like the warm winds of a summer night. I shivered, hiding the movement by tucking the blankets more firmly around me. My stomach was beginning to throb again, but I'd be damned if I'd admit it to anyone.

He leaned forward and pressed my back into the pillows, his fingers warm against my bare skin. "You're going to hurt yourself if you keep sitting up like this," he warned.

"You haven't answered the question."

Green eyes flicked over me and he fussed with the covers, arranging them carefully so I was covered up to my neck and it was a struggle not to slip back into sleep.

But I needed to know the truth.

"I saved you because," Stryker hesitated, scrubbing a hand through his hair and making the dark strands curl wildly around his face. "This isn't how I planned on telling you."

"Telling me what?"

A new tension curled through the room, making the air feel heavier, languid. Green eyes glowed bright as gemstones in the dim light of the torches and I felt myself holding my breath, waiting for something inexplicable. He wet his lips and my eyes tracked the movement, curious as to what could possibly make him so nervous.

Stryker took a breath, leaning forward to murmur, "That you're my mate, Aria."  
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Sorry for the long wait everyone! I wanted to release the Thief and the Soldier chapter at the same time as this one so there were some parallels with Stryker and Aria's relationship. It'll be fun to write a story where the characters know they're mates from the get go instead of making that part of their conflict.

Let me know what you think in the comments! Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

I stared at Stryker. Opened my mouth to reply then closed it again. Frowning, I licked my lips, trying to think up something clever to say to the news that I had a mate.

"I know-I was surprised as well," he said dryly, mouth twitching into a smirk.

"Are you sure? I mean, it could just be the bargain we struck."

Rolling his eyes, he leaned forward to tap the place where the blankets covered the delicate ink that symbolized that promise on my sternum. "No bargain bond is this powerful. Think of your link to Ifrit-does it feel anywhere near as strong?"

I frowned, trying to connect to Ifrit's mind the same way I could with Stryker.

Nothing but silence.

Reluctantly I shook my head, still trying to understand how the interest I'd felt was part of some invisible bond. Stryker leaned back in his chair and studied me with hooded eyes while I struggled to wrap my mind around the idea of the existence of a mate, let alone that he was sitting in front of me eating the last of my bread.

How could I have a mate? I'd never even met another soldier in the army who'd met their mate. I knew Stryker was probably listening to the whirlwind of my thoughts, but I couldn't be bothered to do more than glare at him in warning. I hadn't even bothered with any sort of long term relationship since I'd started climbing the ranks. It was too much of a risk and I had my hands full protecting my legion. Any mate I claimed would become a target for all of my enemies and competitors.

My eyes dropped to the food in front of me and a disconcerting thought occured to me. Prythian fae had strange customs about accepting new mate bonds. I couldn't remember the details, but I knew it had something to do with food. "Did-"

"It doesn't work like that," Stryker replied before I could finish the thought. "In my Court, a female has to cook a meal for her mate to officially accept the bond. I have no intention of tricking you into becoming my mate," He smirked unapologetically, "And I'm more than capable of taking care of any threats to me-though your concern is heartwarming."

"Stop reading my thoughts," I growled.

"Stop making it so easy."

Before I could respond or throw something at him, one of my scouts-Riven, my memory hastily supplied-scrambled into the tent, giving a quick salute. "Commander!" he panted, chest heaving.

I sat up, all thoughts of mate bonds pushed aside in favor of the more familiar role of handling camp matter. "What is it?"

"The general, ma'am. He showed up a few minutes ago and is demanding to speak to you."

The younger male's eyes dropped to my chest and he blushed scarlet. Stryker's shoulders shook with smothered laughter and I snapped, "Turn around!"

Riven spun on his heel immediately, facing the entrance of the tent.

"Where are my clothes?" I asked Stryker and watched the humor die on his face.

"You're not going out there!" he said, disbelief evident. I ignored him, wrapping the thin blanket around me like a sarong so I could search the area without flashing another male in my unit. "Aria, your stomach is barely healed. It could reopen just from you moving around right now, let alone if you have to fight."

"Riven," I ordered instead, "send someone to delay him long enough to get some clothes on."

"Aria-" Stryker began again, looking frustrated.

"Already done, my lady. Jace and Ifrit are speaking to him now. They're trying to convince him that you're with the scouts," Riven replied, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Shit." Trask hated the non-fae members of my legion almost as much as he hated me.

He was part of the old guard that had revelled in the misery of humans and the 'crossbreeds' that littered Prythian's courts. Had achieved his position as general after serving the king loyally through the First War to enslave humanity. Jace and Ifrit were exactly the worst representatives to send out to him if we wanted to avoid spilling blood today.

Specifically because I would gut Trask myself if he even raised his voice to them.

The only way it could get worse, I thought dismally, would be if Talia went out- "Riven!" I said abruptly, "Make sure Talia is far, far away from Trask."

"Yes ma'am!" I heard the tent flap shift as Riven raced away to try to stop Talia from adding fuel to the fire. She was already pissed enough as it was.

Snatching a soft grey pair of cotton pants out of a drawer, I tugged them up over my legs without bothering with underwear. "Shirt. Shirt. Shirt," I chanted like a spell while I rifled through the storage cabinets. The last drawer revealed a darker grey long sleeve shirt that was meant to be worn under armor and I crowed in victory before throwing it over my head and tugged it into place. My stomach protested the movement with a dull throb that I ignored.

Stryker had his arms crossed over his chest and a stubborn expression on his face. "This is idiocy, Aria."

I narrowed my eyes at him, crossing the room to stand in front of him. "Don't think this mate bond means you can start questioning my orders and demeaning my position in my unit."

Since when was he this tall? I thought sourly. My head barely reached his chin and it annoyed me to have to look up at him. A childish part of me wanted to kick him in the shins just to make him bend to my level.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Stryker purred, eyes lighting up with wicked humor. "Why bother when you'll probably fall on your ass and have to be dragged back to the healers after you reopen everything Talia stitched up?"

"I never fall on my ass," I said with a sniff.

His grin turned lecherous and he made a show of looking me over. "It would be a shame to marr such a perfect specimen."

I rolled my eyes and focused on getting dressed, deciding to forgo shoes in favor of avoiding the risk that I may actually faint if I leaned over that far. "I'm not letting them face him alone."

Some of his frustration faded and he looked at the door in frustration before glancing back at me. "I don't suppose I could convince you to just let me scramble his brains and be done with this?"

I chuckled a little. Maybe he really was my mate.

Stryker met my eyes, "I am your mate, I swear it."

Noise from outside made me glance away and I frowned at the familiar sound of raised voices. "We'll talk later. For now, I need to make sure Ifrit doesn't kill the general in front of everyone."

He nodded, gesturing with one hand for me to walk out ahead of him. When I walked past, I snagged the dagger he'd tucked into his belt and waved it at him over my shoulder, "I'm borrowing this."

Warm male laughter followed me. "Yes ma'am."

All humor had faded by the time we reached the front of the camp and saw the crowd gathered there.

Trask hadn't come alone.

I caught sight of the familiar massive outline of Crissen and a few of his closest friends lurking nearby. He saw me walking forward and nudged Trask who pushed past Ifrit and Jace to glare at me. "Commander," he spat, "call off your pets."

Ifrit made a soundless snarl that I repeated when I saw the bruise beginning to bloom across Jace's jaw. He gave me a subtle shake of his head to indicate it was fine, so I tucked that rage away and smiled frostily at Trask. "General, how nice of you to visit."

"I was told you were out with the scouts," he growled, eyeing my stomach for evidence of my injuries from the arena.

"I got back early. Was there something you needed, General? Or were you just worried about me?"

"I wanted to make sure you were healthy enough to travel for your assignment."

Doubtful, I thought cynically. More likely he wanted to see if I had died yet. Good thing Talia was the best healer around.

"How kind of you, sir!" I said instead, beaming at him until his eye twitched. "Your support at my challenge matches is always a comfort."

His dark eyes flicked to where Stryker stood silently at my back and I watched recognition dawn. A familiar cold fury turned his lips into a hard line and his hand tighten on the hilt of his sword. "What is that creature doing alive?" he hissed.

Casually I slid between the two of them before Trask could pull his sword free and gave him an innocent look. "What do you mean? Didn't you hear I claimed him in the arena?"

Trask leveled a glare at me and bellowed, "I thought you intended to use him for target practice-not let him walk freely around our camp!"

Stryker started forward, but I placed a restraining hand on his chest. If this came down to a fight, none of us would leave this camp alive. My injuries were already throbbing at the thought.

Thinking quickly, I let my hand drift over his chest in a gentle caress and cupped his jaw until he looked down at me in surprise. Play along, I thought furiously before I tossed Trask a wicked smile, "I've been training him to use his talents elsewhere."

Green eyes flickered in smothered delight before he pressed a kiss to my palm, nibbling my fingertips in a way that made heat bloom in my stomach. "My lady truly is a dedicated instructor," Stryker murmured huskily, sounding like a well-sated lover.

Smothering a laugh at the horrified expressions, I leaned into his chest and watched Trask's face mottle in rage. Crissen sneered, raising his voice so his followers could laugh with him, "If you're truly that desperate Aria, you should come to my tent and let a real male teach your place."

Stryker's chest rumbled in a growl-all traces of humor gone from his expression. Gently, I ran my hand down his arm, pushing his hand away from his blade subtly. Reminding him that this was not a battle that would end well for anyone. I may have more soldiers nearby, but they were nowhere near strong enough to be able to withstand the fury of the king's army when they discovered a dead general and his closest followers.

Returning my attention to Crissen, I bared my teeth in a silent threat, "I can understand where you've confused our situation-after all, you've only bedded females who were unwilling or paid-but, let me be clear: the only way you'll ever be in the same bedroom as me is if I decided to mount your head on a pike for decoration."

Crossed surged forward, but Trask held out a hand to stop him. Clearly he wasn't ready to risk that I was fully healed and lose another useful commander and ally in his army.

My smile grew sultry and I tilted my head to the side in a silent invitation to Stryker who trailed nibbling kisses down the column of my neck. His warm breath made goosebumps crawl over my skin and part of me wondered if I was being a little too friendly with the male who just confessed he was my mate.

But mostly I just wanted to make Trask and his cronies squirm. I'm petty like that.

I leveled a hooded stare at Crissen, daring him to say something, but he only curled his lips in a snarl, eyes on the male at my back. "It's true what they say, you know," I purred, tangling my fingers in Stryker's thick hair. "Night Court fae are incredibly...gifted."

Minx, Stryker laughed in my mind, distracting me from the others for a moment and chasing away some of the throbbing in my head. Talia's pain medicine was beginning to wear off.

"Whore!" Trask spat.

I batted my eyelashes at him, feeling Stryker stiffen at the insult that I ignored. "I dabble," I replied modestly.

Crissen stepped forward and the smug violence in his eyes warned me of what he planned to say before he opened his mouth. All my humor faded in an instant and I felt my magic surge to my fingertips in response.

"I ch—" he began, then choked, scrabbling at his throat.

Trask looked at him with a confused expression, but I only frowned quizzically, "What was that?"

Crissen opened and closed his mouth, looking like a fish out of water and tried to force his voice to work. His face began to turn blue as his body struggled to fill his lungs with air.

His eyes flashed at me with increasing panic, but I only shrugged, picking at a bit of dried blood under my fingernails. "Too bad—sounded like it might have been important. Then again, with your track record, you might have been about to sign your death record by challenging me in the middle of my camp."

Each word was delivered like a blow and I stepped away from Stryker to prowl closer to Crissen's suffocating form. Trask may not have realized it, but his insistence that I never use my magic in the Arena only allowed thugs like Crissen to forget that I was still a predator. If he had any sense, Crissen would have used his own power to try to strike a blow and distract me from pulling the air from his lungs.

Funny how strategy went out the window when you couldn't breathe.

A soft breeze tugged at my loose hair and I felt the wind's song stirring in my heart, begging for me to let it pull me away. A siren's song for more violence, more power. At the edges of my vision I could see more of my soldiers huddling around us, ready to defend me if need be, but my eyes remained fixed on my prey.

The blow, when it did come, didn't originate with Crissen but by the General himself. Stryker's soft sound of warning was enough for me to twist slightly so the wild punch only landed a glancing blow instead of completely ripping the fragile skin on my stomach open.

Still hurt like a bitch though.

I kept all traces of the burning, throbbing agony out of my expression and leveled a flat stare at Trask. Crissen's struggles were beginning to weaken and he fell on his side at my feet like a fallen tree. His friends started forward to help, but one warning look from me made them halt again and look to Trask for instructions.

"Release your hold on him. Now," Trask barked.

I saluted lazily, "As you command." My smile was brittle when I crouched down to whisper to Crissen, "Consider this your warning...commander. Next time I won't be so gentle."

His lungs seized painfully as he sucked in air in gulping breaths, trying to refill his starving body. I hoped it burned half as bad as my body did at the moment.

While Crissen hauled himself to his feet, eyes furious with the need for violence, Trask scanned the gathered crowd before returning his attention to the bane of his existence. Me.

"You and your team are to be out of the camp and in Prythian before sunset tomorrow," he ordered briskly. "You've provided the camp with enough entertainment and rumors to last until you return."

"I aim to please."

"I expect you back in two weeks."

I frowned, "That's impossible."

Trask grin turned smug, "One then."

Before I could protest again, he jerked his head at Crissen and turned his back on me. I watched Trask stomp away, Crissen at his side, and resisted the urge to clutch at my throbbing stomach. "I'm beginning to think he doesn't like me…"

Stryker snickered, but his eyes were worried and remained fixed on the tiny red stain that was spreading on my shirt. "You're bleeding."

"Shit," I cursed, trying to dab at the small cut, "Talia is going to kill me." Glancing at Stryker, I tried to think of a way to dodge her infamous wrath. "You think if I get back to the healer's tent and pretend to be asleep, she might be convinced I was there the whole time?"  
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Well Aria and Stryker will be back in familiar territory soon! I'm in love with their banter and the way Aria is more freaked out by what Talia is going to do to her when she finds her out of bed and injured than trekking across enemy territory.

Thanks for reading and for all of you loyal reviewers for keeping me at the keys!


	9. Chapter 9

Merric was finishing tightening the last of the horse’s saddles when I walked up with Stryker still trailing behind me. He gave a grunt of greeting and proceeded to ignore us in favor of fussing with the bridle of a dun mare who lipped his shirt fondly. I didn’t take Merric’s behavior to heart--after all, I’d assigned him this position because of his commitment to the horses he bred specially for this unit.

A soft whicker made me turn with a smile to a leggy black stud impatiently waiting in his stall. I fished out the apple I’d snagged from my tent and produced it with flourish. “Hey Mo,” I greeted cheerfully, opening my palm so he could lick up the pieces left behind by his gluttonous snacking. “Ready to get into some trouble?”

Stryker walked over to us and Mo’s dark ears flicked toward him curiously. Green eyes met liquid brown in a strange exchange that felt almost like they were sizing each other up. “Mo?” Stryker finally asked me.

I smiled ruefully, “His name is Asmodeus.”

“Like in the children’s stories?”

I winced at the laughter in his voice. Asmodeus was the clever and villainous sidekick to the hero of fae legend popular in Prythian and Hybern. Together, Asmodeus and Kusak battled to bring an end to a wicked and cruel sorcerer until it was eventually revealed that Asmodeus was really the sorcerer all along. Their battle raged for years until at last, Kusak struck the final blow and wiped the scourge of Asmodeus’ magic off the face of the earth. 

“Yes,” I replied primly, reaching up to stroke my hand over the smooth dark muscle of Mo’s neck and shoulder. “He was bred to be a warhorse, but he’s a bit of a glutton and tends to get distracted when he’s supposed to be fighting. Asmodeus made him sound like he was a brute, so I just shortened it to Mo.”

As if to prove my words, Mo nudged Stryker roughly, searching for any hidden snacks in his clothes. Stryker pushed his head away firmly and rubbed his nose, “So why choose him to come with us?”

“Just because he’s not mean or aggressive doesn’t mean he isn’t vicious when he needs to be.”

Flicking open the latch on the stall door, I led Mo out to where the rest of the Core were gathered. With them stood a tall male with pale blonde hair and a brutal scar across his face that distracted from the beautiful symmetry of his features. He broke off an casual conversation with Jace to snap into a salute at the sight of me, but I waved it off, “Vaughn, I didn’t expect to see you this early.”

Vaughn shrugged, “I figured I’d see you off before I started making my rounds.” His dark brown eyes moved over to where Stryker stood but he knew better to ask why the former Night Court soldier was coming with us. 

As the next in command after my Core, Vaughn was one of the few fae I trusted to keep my soldiers safe in my absence. He was level headed and tough and, perhaps most importantly, absolutely conniving when it came to battle strategies. If Trask or Crissen attempted to take over my camp, Vaughn would make them regret it.

“Good,” I said briskly, “While we’re gone, I want the camp shut down as much as possible. Don’t let anyone go into the main camp without a group and add a few extra sentries to the borders.”

“Already done.”

I tapped my fist against his shoulder in silent praise and pulled myself into Mo’s saddle. The stallion shifted with my weight, eager to be off. While I fiddled with my glaive and the short spears I’d tied to the sides of my saddle, the others mounted their horses and prepared to move out. Stryker threw one long leg over the back of a mahogany colored gelding and took the reins with the confidence of someone who’d spent years in the saddle while Ifrit stiffly tried to keep her wings arched high and off her horse’s back, fingers clenched white around the saddle horn.

Satisfied they were ready, I tapped my heels against Mo’s sides and felt his muscles bunch beneath me as he surged forward down the path. It was only a few miles to the coastline and our rendezvous point to smuggle ourselves into Prythian. The crossing would take most of the day to avoid the patrols led by the Summer Court water fae and the various low born fae who spied for their High Lords.

Hooves thundered across the well worn path and I enjoyed the opportunity to feel the wind pulling through my hair and clothing like a whispered caress. It was always tempting to let that beckoning call pull me up and over the ground, soaring high above the struggles and worries here on earth. 

But one broken arm and leg had been enough to teach me that flying without wings was impossible.

Overhead, the falcons and songbirds of the plains gave way to gulls and the broad winged sea eagles of the coastlines, circling over us in lazy glides. Instead of angling toward the coastal wharf cities that dotted the shores nearest to Prythian’s coast, we took a narrow game trail that was barely visible toward the rocky cliffs. I turned our group off the trail toward a small, hidden inlet just large enough to dock a small clipper.

I waved in greeting to the figure stowing away the sails and watched him leap down to the deck with barely any noise. Tossing the reins aside, I jumped off Mo’s back and raced across the rocky shore, leaping into Frey’s outstretched arms with a laugh and planting a smacking kiss on his weathered cheek.

“It’s been too long, Aria girl,” he laughed, spinning me around for a moment before resettling me on my feet. The grey of his skin was pearly in the dawn light, revealing delicate patterns of scales that gleamed like the surface of an oil slick. Dark green hair, the color of seaweed, hung around his face in limp strands that seemed perpetually dripping with water. Frey waved at the others and smiled a shark’s smile at Stryker. “Did you bring this one fresh meat?” The odd pattern of speech that was a marker of his water wraith ancestry made me chuckle.

Stryker looked over at me with a question in his eyes that I pointedly ignored in favor of draping an arm around Frey’s neck. “This is Stryker,” I introduced quickly, “He has the misfortune of being part of the crew I’m taking to the Wall. Stryker, this is Frey, smuggler extraordinaire and our ticket into Prythian.”

“He’s a pretty one,” Frey said with a lecherous grin and Stryker shifted uncomfortably at the attention, glancing over at me with a question in his green eyes.

Finally I took pity on him, “Don’t scare him off yet, Frey. He still has to earn his keep.”

And how would you like me to do that? Stryker purred in my mind and I blushed at the suggestion in his voice.

Clearing my throat, I tried to pretend I hadn’t heard him. Judging from his smug look, it wasn’t working. “We need to hit the coast by nightfall or Trask will use my guts for garters.”

Frey waved a dismissive clawed hand. “We will fly upon the water like a stormwind.”

Pleasantries over, Frey signalled for Jace to help lower the gangplanks that were wide enough to allow the horses to move onto the gently rocking boat. Frey’s lip curled at the sight of them and I heard him muttering under his breath about “nasty pooping beasts.” Still, he kept his dislike of horseflesh mostly contained to a few pointed glares and heavy sighs.

I stared out at the ocean waves with the familiar pulse of excitement and adrenaline at heading into Prythian keeping me company. Stryker ambled over, his arm brushing mine to lean both forearms against the scarred railing. “So how much did you have to pay to convince a water wraith to smuggle us in? Or is he just another member of your company?”

Behind us, I could hear Frey flirting outrageously with Jace in an attempt to get him to pull off his shirt ‘to avoid getting it wet from the spray’ and grinned. “I trade him for the privilege fair and square.”

It was no secret that the water wraiths were cursed with an almost epic level of greed. They were never satisfied with what they could hunt or kill or steal and were almost entirely despised by the high fae. For good reason, a water wraith wouldn’t think twice about stabbing you in the back if it meant they could get something for their efforts. Even as a half breed, Frey was obsessed with the money and goods he could attain through his skills reading the fickle water currents in the straits--which is why he was such a valuable ally.

“For every trip with me or one of my legend,” I explained quickly, “Frey gets to borrow me for one of his smuggling runs.”

Stryker turned to face me with a curious frown. “Why would he need you?”

Instead of answering, I walked over to where the grey skinned demi fae was casting off the last of the mooring ropes. “Ready?” I asked him.

Frey grinned, showing rows of serrated teeth and leapt up to the rigging to release the sails with a crow of excitement. 

Ifrit groaned and braced herself on the main deck next to Talia and Jace. Stryker looked cautious as he followed their lead, eyes focused on my while I raised my arms and called on my magic. The gesture was merely for dramatics since my Core had seen this done dozens of times, but part of me wanted Stryker to be a little impressed. 

Ripping an air current free from the sky, I filled the sails with the press of an unnatural wind that had the clipper moving forward with an abrupt jerk. Above us, a seagull squawked in confusion at the loss of air pressure and fell from the sky in a jagged pinwheel that stopped when Frey leapt free from the rigging to snatch it from air. I winced at the sound of crunching bone and tissue as he munched on the treat I’d unexpectedly given him.

The boat surged forward, moving easily double the speed of an average, unladen vessel with the help of my winds. It rattled and jumped as we cut through the waves and moved out of the tiny cove under Frey’s expert steering. Stryker watched with wide eyes and I grinned when I poured more power into the winds so that we moved even faster pace, heading into open water.

Ifrit had turned pale under her tan and I saw her hands clench around the railing. Jace placed his hand over hers in a comforting gesture that did little to help her open dislike of sea travel. The poor thing had never enjoyed being on the water and, judging from the green tinge on her cheeks, it wouldn’t be long before she puked up her breakfast into the waters.

“Ifrit!” I called over the crashing sea, “Scout ahead!”

She nodded gratefully and spread her massive, scarred wings wide, beating against the current of the wind. Even now, I winced at the thick bands of scar tissue that kept her from stretching them open to their full extent. My only regret in our meeting was that I hadn’t taken longer torturing cruel bastards that left her for dead in the Illyrian mountains all those years ago. Even now, she could never fly without assistance.

Once she perched on the edge of the railing, bracing herself against the movement of the boat beneath her, I pushed a warm air current in her direction. Faster than any Illyrian warrior could achieve, Ifrit shot upward into the sky in a burst of wings and wind. I smiled at the sight of her racing along the clouds and circling overhead, high enough that she looked like one of the eagles that nested along the cliffs behind us. It was second nature now to keep her aloft so she could glide and spin among the birds above us.

Jace watched Ifrit’s path through the heavens with a note of longing and I watched his hands open and close where they once touched hers. Quietly I walked to where he was still standing and bumped his shoulder gently, “You know, one of these days she’s going to notice that you look at her with your heart in your eyes.”

Jace flushed bright red, his olive coloring doing little to disguise his embarrassment at getting caught. “I don’t--” He cut himself off with a frustrated sound, “She’s not ready to trust another male.”

“She trusts you.”

“And I don’t want to ruin that,” he replied with a grim expression. 

“You don’t have forever to wait.”

It felt like cheating to bring up his mortality, but it was an unfortunate truth. As much as I wished it wasn’t the truth, Jace was already 28 years old. I wasn’t sure how long mortals typically lived, but as long as he stayed in my legion his life expectancy would be even shorter.

Jace sighed and turned away from me to walk towards the upper deck. “I’m going to check on Talia.”

My heart ached for him. Ached for the longing in his voice and my inability to help him.

I glanced back up at the sky where Ifrit was barely in sight and ran my hand through my hair, carding it against the knots created by the wind. Some of my frustration channeled into my magic and the clipper was buffeted by a cool wind pulled from the highest altitudes.

“Impressive,” Stryker murmured next to my ear and I pretended my jump was only because of the movement of the ship beneath my feet.

“It’s useful.”

He leaned forward, letting the wind ruffle his hair into a wild dark halo. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

The sound of his husky voice curled through my body leaving me flushed and glancing away awkwardly towards the line of sunlight cresting on the horizon. If I strained my eyes, I could begin to make out the coastline of the Summer Court. Although we were only a few miles off Prythian’s coast, it would take the better part of the day to weave our way through the navies and scout vessels that patrolled these waters. Frey handed the wheel over to Talia to scale the main mast and take down the red flag of Hybern for the blooming rose of spring.

“Will you be able to manage this?”

Stryker looked up from watching that distant coastline to stare back at me. “Manage what?”

My dark hair whipped around my face as I turned into the wind to focus fully on him. “We are going into Prythian and there’s a high probability that we will be forced to fight fae who were once your allies to protect my people. I can’t have you become a liability.”

There it was. The line in the sand that would always exist even with a mate bond. Even if it meant giving up a chance of a lifetime of happiness, I would not betray my Core. My family.

“I made a bargain with you.”

I pursed my lips, eyes flat. “All bargains have loop holes. You may not directly harm my unit, but a moment’s hesitation, one moment of weakness, could destroy everything I protect. Everything that matters to me.”

The last bit of warmth disappeared from his expression and I felt hollow from where it once rested. He turned to face me directly and I reached for the bond between us, wanting to ensure his honesty even if I understood his loyalty was not truly for me.

“I won’t harm them.” He said it simply, as though that resolved everything.

I couldn’t help but notice he made no guarantees for my safety. Fair enough, I never expected that.

“Will you defend them?” I pressed.

Stryker hesitated, eyes raking over my face. “Yes.”

Frey called out a warning and I glanced up, only just now realizing I had released my hold on the air currents pushing us forward. Stryker was too much of a distraction and my emotions were already fluctuating too much for my liking. He was too much of a wild card in an already tense situation.

So I let the mantle of commander settle like a protective armor over me and narrowed my eyes at him in warning, “Good. Even if you are my mate, I won’t hesitate to kill you if you even think about breaking our bargain.”

Without waiting for his response, I turned on my heel and walked towards Frey, pretending I didn’t feel his eyes like a brand on my back.


	10. Chapter 10

I dreamed I was in a city made of starlight.

It glittered like captured gemstones beneath me and I soared in a sky that sparkled in bright pinpricks of color and light. Rough fingers dragged along the exposed skin of my navel, trailing fire and fever in their wake. I arched up, eager for more and was rewarded with a gravelly chuckle and the brush of lips tracing the line of my neck.

"Beautiful," he whispered and I pressed toward him, following the sound of his voice to his lips. "Aria, my Aria."

"Aria." I let my hands discover each dip in hist powerful back and shoulders, needing to feel more of him.

"Aria." Frowning at the disruption, I broke away from his lips to nibble the gentle curve of his collar bone. His hands tightened on my hips as though he was trying to keep me here with him.

"ARIA!"

Blinking awake, I was on my feet with a knife in my hand before my drowsy mind realized I was looking at Talia's bemused face. "Having good dreams?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

I blushed, looking everywhere but where Stryker might be. "Was there a reason you shouted me awake?"

"Besides the fact that everyone was beginning to notice-" she cut off her line of thought at my growl and gestured over the railing, "-Frey says we'll be landing soon."

"Are the others awake?"

"Yes, we thought you could use the rest while it was safe."

I nodded my thanks and tucked my blade back out of sight, mind struggling to focus on the task ahead of me with that dream lingering in my head. My body felt flushed and achy in a way that made me edgy.

Most of my dreams focused on things I worried about-Ifrit falling from the sky on a careless wind, Trask managing to corner members of my legion with one of his lackeys, losing a match to someone useless like Crissen. So why was I dreaming of a place I'd never even seen before?

Blowing out a steadying breath, I forced that jumble of thoughts to the back of my mind and focused on the dark shoreline we were approaching. Soon we'd be deep in enemy territory and it would take all of my planning and strategy to ensure we all made it back safely. I hurried over to where Ifrit and Talia were dousing the ship's lamps on the off chance one of the coastal patrols moved close enough to catch sight of us.

Frey had steered us into one of the forgotten coves on the southern edge of the Summer Court. Too shallow for any freight shippers and too small for any fisherman to bother mooring a boat here. Thankfully, Frey's abilities meant that he knew every rock hidden beneath the dark waters and kept us from running aground. Occasionally I'd hear the distinct soft splash that signaled the demi-fae had entered into the water to ensure we were on the right course.

Once we were safely within the barrier reefs, Frey hauled himself out of the water and took hold of the wheel once more. Talia and I headed over to saddle the horses and prep the pack for our arrivals. Time was not our ally in this mission. Any delays would mean missing our rendezvous with Frey on the trip back and no doubt lead to Trask punishing my soldiers for the mistake.

Jace, Frey, and Stryker were busy tying back the main sail to prepare for our final approach on Prythian when I stepped back from Mo with an affectionate pat to his shoulder. All thoughts of horses and enemy soldiers and the task ahead of us slipped out of my head like dust in a breeze.

Somehow, Frey must have convinced Stryker to pull off the dark Night Court attire because his bare chest was on full display while he worked. Unlike the bulky soldiers I was used to seeing running around shirtless during drills, Stryker's body was like poetry in motion. All lean muscle and rippling promise beneath tanned skin.

My mouth went dry as he gripped two handfuls of the sail and hauled them into place with barely a grunt of effort. Greedily my eyes traced the dark purple and grey of the bargain tattoo that tied him to me for a year and a line of dark circles that ran down his spine. Moons, my brain slowly registered, each phase of the moon depicted in perfect detail.

Fingers clenching in Mo's mane, I took a deep breath and forced my eyes back to the deck. What in the Cauldron's name was I doing? Whatever this mate bond was, it was clearly messing with my brain.

Despite my inner debate, my traitorous eyes darted back to Stryker and immediately met his green eyes.

One corner of his mouth quirked in a wicked smile. What's wrong, Aria? You look...flushed.

I scowled. Just surprised to see you performing manual labor.

It's certainly not the kind of manual labor I prefer…

The heat in his voice made my body react in a wave a need that I had to grit my teeth to control the urge to drag him off the main mast and answer his dare with one of my own. I checked my mental shields to ensure he wasn't aware of my embarrassing reaction. That would be a nightmare.

Thankfully I was saved from a response when the boat lurched under my feet as we made landfall. Talia helped me dismantle the makeshift corral in the center of the deck while Ifrit hopped off the boat to tie it to one of the massive driftwood trees dotting the shore.

The males in the rigging jumped down, laughing at something Stryker said and I tried to pretend I wasn't listening to make sure it wasn't about me. Already there was a distinct difference in the temperature around us that smacked of being in the Summer Court. Hybern's climate was a closer to the Autumn Court, though we didn't have High Lords to maintain a steady season and I missed the cooler temperatures.

Frey grinned at me, "It's always a pleasure to see you make this old boat soar."

I clasped his forearm and smiled back at him. "We'll see if we can beat our record on the return journey."

Ifrit looked faintly nauseous at the thought.

Grabbing Mo's reins, I led the big stallion off the boat while the others said a quick goodbye. They knew that the moment we set foot on land, the time for joking and laughter would be over. Any mistakes we made here could cost us our life.

Stryker followed me through the lapping water, waving back at Frey who was beginning to push off. "That," he said with a shake of his head and a grin, "is perhaps the most flirtatious male I've ever met."

Rolling my eyes, I walked out of the surf and waited for the others to finish getting off the small clipper. If we could somehow defeat our enemies through flirting, Frey and Stryker would be our greatest weapons.

Once everyone was gathered, I pulled out a piece of oiled leather from my pocket. On it was a long, jagged line that extended across the surface. Stryker leaned closer, looking over my shoulder to examine it. "What is that?" he asked.

"Our map," I replied briskly, "we need to mark where there are weaknesses in the Wall, but we can't just carry around military maps in the midst of enemy territory."

It went unsaid what would happen to any of us if we were captured with a map of Prythian in our pockets when our identities were discovered.

Ifrit frowned, hands moving quickly. That's too much territory to cover in a week.

"We'll have to just move as quickly as we can."

We should just split up.

The idea made me shake my head, "It's too risky to split up."

It's risky regardless of whether we're together or not. At least if we are in separate groups we have a chance of being able to help rescue a captured unit.

I sighed, staring down at the map and tried to puzzle out some kind of plan that would keep us all together and safe. She tapped the map to get my attention again so I could read her signing, You know it's the best plan.

Resisting the urge to look over at Stryker, I set the map down onto a nearby piece of driftwood so my hands could be free to sign back to her - I didn't need Stryker listening in to our conversation. I can't trust him alone with you.

A quick quirk of a dark eyebrow as she replied, So take him with you.

I don't want him with me, I scowled, hands moving emphatically.

Now Ifrit openly smirked, Why? Because you're worried you'll slip up and sleep with him?

The others were beginning to watch our exchange and I clamped down tightly on my mental shields so no trace of my thoughts could leak out to a nosy daemati. I'm not going to sleep with him.

I doubt there would be much sleeping if you finally make good on those heated looks you've been throwing back and forth.

Talia coughed into her hand to cover a laugh and I glared at her. Jace whistled cheerily and began to fuss with a strap on his pack, pretending like he wasn't also watching our conversation.

Just because he's attractive doesn't mean I'll sleep with him! I signed quickly, trying to ignore the blush creeping up my neck.

"Why not?" Stryker asked abruptly and we froze, turning slightly to face him.

"What-" I started but he only arched an eyebrow, voice bland, "I don't see why we shouldn't."

Ifrit made a strangled sound and I swallowed hard, blush now in full effect. "You can understand sign?"

He shrugged, "She's using Illyrian hand signals - all Night Court soldiers are trained in it for stealth missions."

"And you only thought to mention this now?"

That sly, wicked grin was back and it made the heat in my skin sink deeper, moving the flush through my body. "I didn't want to be rude," he replied with a bat of his lashes.

Jace had his face pressed against his horse's side and I watched his shoulders begin to shake while Talia and Ifrit made no attempt to cover their laughter at the furious indignation on my face.

Damnit, I was a centuries-old fae - not some school girl crushing on a handsome male.

Gathering my tattered pride like a cloak, I straightened and faced Stryker, "Then you know our relationship is strictly professional."

Green eyes laughed at me. "Even though you find me attractive."

A growl ripped free from my chest, but I ignored him to snap at the rest of my Core. "Ifrit, Talia, and Jace, take the horses and start from here. Use Jace to test any holes or weak points you may find in the Wall and mark them on you maps." I handed them each a similar piece of leather marked with the long line of Prythian's southernmost border. "If anything happens, we'll rendezvous here."

Humor fading from her face, Talia tucked her map into the inner pocket of her pale blue tunic. "What about you?"

"I'll winnow Stryker and myself to the opposite end of the Wall and work our way back. If everything goes according to plan, we'll meet in the middle and be able to track back together to meet Frey for the pickup."

"And if it doesn't?"

I clenched my jaw, voice hard, "Then you'll get back to the boat and sail without us."

"But-" Jace began, but I made a sharp gesture to cut him off.

"That's an order."

They looked like they wanted to argue, but something in my face must have told them it would be useful. Despite the fact that I welcomed their perspectives and ideas in our missions, I was still their commander and I would not tolerate them ignoring an order. Talia and Ifrit exchanged a glance that promised trouble later, but they nodded stiffly.

"Good," I said quickly - before I lost my nerve, "then get going. We don't have much time to make this run and I want to have plenty of it to rub our victory in Trask's face when we get back in one piece."

I couldn't help but think as they walked away on the horses that this was exactly what I didn't want to happen. Traitors.

"Alone at last," Stryker purred next to me and I scowled again.

This week just got a whole lot harder.

______________________________________________________________

Alone at last. ;) I cackle every time I think about these two and their banter. And who doesn't love a sexy daemati dream?


	11. Chapter 11

It took two jumps to reach the edge of my mental map of the Spring Court. Winnowing two people was exhausting and I was beginning to feel the effects of too many nights worrying about this trip coupled with the strain from my injuries from the arena. Each time I dragged us deeper into the deep woods of Spring felt like a fierce wind was pushing me back, tearing into every fiber of my being like it could blow me away into the vacuum that surrounded us.

When the world returned to bright green focus around us, I stumbled back away from Stryker to keep myself from leaning fully against him to catch my breath. Things were already muddled enough between us, I didn’t need to add more physical interactions into the mix. We needed to keep this as professional as possible to avoid unnecessary complications.

Despite my efforts, the muscles of my stomach twitched in surprise when gentle fingers grazed the sensitive skin through the fabric of my shirt, finding the long red line left behind by Gorre’s knife unerringly. Stryker’s dark head leaned closer to me, eyes running over the lines of my face as though he could see past it into my mind. “Are you alright?”

I blinked, trying not to think about how close - and how alone - we were. 

Then my stupid, ridiculous eyes drifted down to the curve of his lips, only a few inches away from mine. Instantly the air around us felt charged with electricity and the concern in his eyes seemed to melt into wicked heat.

“Aria,” Stryker purred, moving close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body through my clothes. Something about the way he said my name was almost...indecent. Like I was suddenly naked and bare in a pile of soft silks instead of in the middle of the woods.

He reached a slow hand out to run his fingers through the dark curls at the nape of my neck, wrapping them around his fist until my face instinctively tilted upward towards his. Our breaths mingled in a rush and my body clenched in anticipation of discovering just what he tasted like, what kinds of sounds he would make when I finally…

Finally what?

I blinked and blinked again, feeling like my body and brain were fighting an internal battle to decide just how this moment ended. Dragging air into my lungs, I took an abrupt step back, hoping the distance would help remind my body that this was not the time to be imagining what Stryker would look like naked.

Mother’s tits - we were in the middle of enemy territory and all I could think about was how easy it would be to drag up the hem of his shirt and explore the muscular chest I’d watched from afar on Frey’s ship.

Clearing my throat, I gestured vaguely to the woods around us, cheeks warm. “We should be a mile or so from the Wall.”

Slowly - making no attempt to pretend like he wanted to - Stryker released his hold on my hair and looked around us. “Let’s get moving then.”

He walked confidently into the trees along a game path with barely a sound to give away his position, hands tucked in his pockets. Nothing about his demeanor hinted at any reaction to what had just, almost, happened. Damn him. I followed a little more cautiously, trying to get my raging hormones under control. The same hormones that made me want to press Stryker into the soft moss under my boots and have my way with him. 

To just damn the consequences and be selfish.

The woods around us shared none of my internal struggle. Moments after we winnowed into the small clearing I’d marked the last time I was passing through, the birds were already calling to each other from the branches over head. The peaceful sounds of the woods enveloped the space around us until I could feel the solitude settle over us like a blanket.

Unlike the reds and browns of the plains of Hybern, the Spring Court was almost painfully bright. Soft green leaves trapped in a perpetual new bloom sprouted out of the dark tree branches and the air was heavy with the scent of pollen and honeysuckles. White flowers trailed along the treetops on pale vines, feeding the birds and bugs that moved around them like a living cloud.

It was...overwhelming.

I didn’t enjoy how much cover the leafy bushes and dense forests could give the predators that roamed Prythian. I missed the winds of the plains that had been my friends for so long. The green felt blinding and the scent of flowers was so strong that it washed out my ability to scent anything useful. My fingers drifted to where I’d tucked away my weapons, counting and recounting the familiar shapes on inner and outer sheathes.

“Relax,” Stryker murmured and I jerked my head up to find him watching me from a few feet away, “I’ll be able to sense someone before they’re able to even see us.”

“How do I know you wouldn’t just help them kill me?” I grumbled irritably, embarrassed that he could see through me so easily.

Immediately I regretted the sharp words when the softness in his eyes was replaced by the same cool indifference I’d received the first days he was in camp. An apology hovered on my tongue, trying to press pass the lips that pride kept closed.

“I’m getting really tired of you accusing me of betrayal, mate,” he growled.

“Don’t call me that.”

Green eyes narrowed dangerously. “Why? It’s the truth.”

“The bond isn’t complete.”

“Only because you’re too afraid of acknowledging it.”

I gritted my teeth, feeling my temper surge. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Is that why you run away any time I get close to you?” Stryker snarled, moving close enough that we were in a mockery of our position earlier. “Or were you lying when you said you’d give this a chance?”

“I don’t run from anything.”

“Is it another male that has you hesitating?” He pressed and I opened my mouth on a wordless sound of surprise. “Is it Jace?”

Surprise turned to outrage. “Wha - No! Of course not!”

“Because he’s human?”

“Because he’s Jace!”

We stared at each other for a long moment, both struggling to rein in our tempers before the sound of our argument attracted any of the countless predators that roamed the Spring Court. I often thought that the High Lord of Spring let the beasts flourish here because it gave him an additional line of defense against any one stupid enough to trespass on his lands. I’d never seen the new Lord of Spring, but he appeared to follow his father’s methods in that way at least. 

Once silence fell between us, I could make out the barest hum in the air. I held up a finger to Stryker, silencing the accusation on his lips, and gestured for him to listen too. The noise was less of a tangible sound now that I focused on it and more of sensation that remained a steady, monotone pulse in the back of our minds. 

The Wall.

Argument set aside for now, we moved closer to the sound until it was a distracting drone and the animals around us thinned out in favor of more pleasant areas of the woods. At least, the prey animals did. I found more than one piece of evidence that the nastier denizens of the wood ventured this close to the Wall.

Eventually that press of magic became so intense each step felt like they were forcing their way through a thick mud and silt. My mind felt dull and filled with cotton the closer we got until my extended hand finally pressed against a solid block in the empty air in front of me. It was disconcerting to be able to see birds and wildlife continuing as though nothing was wrong ten feet in front of us when I knew we wouldn’t be able to go any further. The first brush of skin against the Wall had me jerking my hand back at the unpleasant burst of electricity jolted up my arm. 

Stryker stopped beside me, looking speculative. “I’ve never seen a barrier like this.”

“Cauldron magic is a strange thing,” I agreed.

Instead of moving down the length of the Wall to begin mapping, I stepped closer to the invisible barrier and took a deep breath. Before I could hesitate, I pressed my hand against the space, gritting my teeth against the uncomfortable sensation and tried to force my hand to move through it.

The unpleasant hum of energy grew to an uncontrollable tremor that settled deep into my bones until it was an effort to keep my teeth from chattering. I heard Stryker make a rough sound but was forced to ignore it in favor of channeling my magic deep into my veins to try to push back against the Wall’s magic. My hand twitched in the empty space in front of us, moving like I was trying to force my way through a thick gelatin.

“Aria!” Stryker said sharply but I shook my head distractedly, leaning my weight into my hand to try to push deeper.

There was a sharp scent of ozone a moment before a massive force slamming into me, throwing me back several feet until my back slammed into one of the massive trees nearby. I coughed, shaking my head to dispel the dark spots at the edge of my vision.

Stryker crouched down next to me, looking frustrated. “That was a foolish risk.” Despite his tone, his hands were gentle as they ran over my arms and legs, checking for injuries.

“I had to no if the spellwork had flaws.”

“By getting yourself thrown halfway across the clearing?”

I shrugged, brushing away his hands so I could get to my feet. “We’ll have to see if there’s another way through. Maybe there are breaks in the barrier.”

He grunted, but didn’t argue when I put us on a path that ran mostly parallel to the consistent buzz of magic that marked the Wall’s boundary. Even if he was a ridiculous flirt, Stryker was a decent traveling companion and I appreciated the stealthy way he moved through the woods, leaving no trace that couldn’t be explained by an animal’s passage through the undergrowth. If I didn’t know he was from the Night Court, I’d think he grew up in this area of Prythian.

It was slow going - the only way to track the Wall’s path was by the ‘sound’ of it and my head was throbbing by the time light began to fade through the leafy branches overhead.

“We should find some shelter before dark,” I said, breaking what must have been hours of silence between us.

Gods, I wasn’t ready to be alone with him at night.

Stryker gestured ahead of us, unaware of my sudden trepidation. “I think there’s a break in the trees ahead, maybe we can find something there.”

I nodded, trying to get my racing heart under control and let him lead the way toward the clearing ahead. Thoughtfully, I frowned at his back as we walked. “How do you know there’s a break in the trees?”

“I can hear the animals reacting to it,” he replied casually, tapping his forehead in explanation as to how he managed that feat.

“I didn’t think daemati could hear animal thoughts?”

“We can’t - not really, at least. I can just feel them moving around us.”

No wonder he was so quiet all day - it would take a tremendous amount of concentration to be able to focus on so much at once. Guilt rose, twisting my gut when I realized why he was going through so much trouble to scan the woods around us.

“I’m sorry...about what I said before,” I finally said, “You’ve been true to your word and it wasn’t fair to question your honor like that.” He turned, staring at me with eyes only a few shades darker than the shrubs around us and said nothing. Awkwardly, I cleared my throat and tried to sound confident and focused - not like I was distracted by the way the dying sun highlighted the strong lines of his face. “Looks like you were right - there’s some sort of old building here.”

Brushing past him, I crept closer to the stone structure standing silent and unlit in the small clearing in the woods. There was no sign of any recent trails through this area so I took a few silent steps closer and peered in through one of the narrow windows. The air was stale inside and sunlight and vines trailed through an opening left in the roof when one of the rotten beams must have collapsed. Lucky that the walls were made of cut stone so the damage appeared limited. Simple wooden furnishings were upturned and overgrown by the encroaching woods around us.

“Looks like it’s abandoned,” I called to Stryker and pushed the door open carefully.

It creaked out a protest but didn’t fall in. Inside was a mess of dust and a hint of a familiar smell that explained the disrepair of the simple home. 

Not abandoned, lost. 

A simple search found the pile of bones beside the thin cot. The body was too decayed for me to tell what the cause of death was, though closer inspection showed teeth marks along the bleached white of the femur and rib cage. I muttered a soft apology before I gathered what was left of the cabin’s owner in a ratty piece of tablecloth left on the small hand-carved table and moved them outside.

While I disposed of the body, Stryker got to work clearing away some of the debris so we would have a space to eat our rations and sleep. One look at the tiny cot in the corner had my stomach twisting in anxious knots. 

Was I alarmed by spending the night with my mate, or intrigued?

“Um...I can take first watch if you want to get some sleep,” I offered, “I got a nap in while we were on the ship.” Avoiding his gaze, I started to dig through my pack, searching for the thin loaves of bread and cheese I’d stored there.

“Why did you do it?”

Something in his voice made me pause and turn back to face him, brows furrowed. “Do what?”

“Save me.”

I went still, mind instantly going back to the moment I’d seen them dragging him out onto the arena sands. Even after all these years watching the slave bouts and countless punishments, I’d never felt a gut wrenching panic and need before.

“You didn’t deserve what they were going to do to you,” I finally murmured, checking to ensure my shields were intact.

Truth was, I still wasn’t sure why I’d stepped in that day. Something in me had just snapped at the idea that this stranger was going to die right in front of me if I didn’t.

Stryker raked his fingers through his unruly brown hair and I felt my own twitch with the urge to see if it was as silky as it looked. “I--” he cut himself off and stared up at me, something dark in his eyes, “--I tried to murder one of your generals.”

“If you weren’t from Prythian, they probably would have congratulated you,” I pointed out with a weak smile. He didn’t respond so I took a step closer, crouching down so we were eye level. “Why does it matter? You’re alive and you’ll be free by the end of the year.”

“I heard you.”

I frowned, “What?”

“That day. I heard you speaking to me,” he repeated.

“I didn’t--” I began, but Stryker leaned forward, looking intense, “They drugged me, you know? Drugged me with so many poisons that I couldn’t tell what was real and what was just a nightmare created by the torture. It made it impossible to keep my mental shields intact.”

I held my breath, watching the pain of those memories move over his face.

“It was sheer luck that I didn’t know anything useful because Dagdan and Brannagh walked through my mind like I was a human,” He took a shuddering breath and I had to clench my hands into fists to keep from touching him, comforting him. “When they were...done, they sent me out to the arena so the ‘troops could have some fun.’”

“You don’t have to tell me this,” I whispered, but he shook his head.

“You should know. You should know that when they dragged me out into the sands and chained me to that post, I had nothing left to protect my mind from the onslaught of thoughts from every soldier gathered there. All their hate, bloodlust, and excitement was drowning me. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.”

“Stop,” I choked out, fingers clenching in his shirt. I could feel his heartbeat there, pounding beneath my fingertips and I was suddenly afraid. Afraid of what would happen when the truth of what was between us was realized.

Stryker’s eyes blazed up at me, hot and wild, “No.”

So I stood, trying to put enough space between that I could breathe, drag air into my lungs and remember what that I’d placed these barriers in place for a reason. Feelings were a weakness and weaknesses get you killed.

One step. Then another, until my body felt cold and lonely without him close.

Then he was moving, crowding close until I was forced to step back or sink into the heat of him. The rough stone of the wall behind me brushed my back and I was forced to stand still, staring up at him. Fighting the urge to run before it was too late.

“Don’t give up,” he whispered, reciting my own thoughts back to me, “Don’t let them win.” Our breath mingled and I stared at him helplessly, unable to summon the strength to push him away. “It was you that kept me sane. You, Aria--you saved me.”


	12. Chapter 12

Like his statement was a declaration of war, Stryker abruptly turned on his heel and walked out the door of the cabin. “I’ll take first watch,” he tossed over his shoulder.

How was I supposed to sleep after that?

Carefully, I leaned so I could see out the window and watched the spy settle onto a stump nearby and pull out an apple to munch on while he was on watch. Watching him begin to eat as if he hadn’t just made things...weirder between us made me huff out an exasperated breath. He twisted to look back at the cabin and I had to jerk back to remain out of sight, cursing myself all the while. Why in the Cauldron’s name was I hiding from him? I was the commander here, not him.

Deciding I’d had enough of behaving like a foolish teenager, I grabbed my bread and cheese and quickly ate it. The bed was rickety and so dirty that I decided that sleeping on the floor was a slightly more appealing option. At least the bugs on the ground could be chased away with a well placed slap of my hand.

But once I was stretched out on the uneven ground, all that was left to do was think. Think about the look in Stryker’s eyes when he’d admitted what they’d done to him. To think about the way each of his words had sunk like arrows into my heart, changing and reshaping it into a muscle that seemed wholly fixated on his every breath, his every touch.

Sighing, I rolled onto my side and stared at the jumble of table and chair legs from what was left of the tiny kitchen. What was I doing? I’d told him I would give him a chance back at the camp because there was a part of me that still thought that this would be just like any other relationship. That he would eventually decide it wasn’t worth all the extra baggage or trying to compete with all of my other responsibilities.

That I wasn’t worth it.

Now I wondered if I wasn’t using my responsibilities as an excuse to avoid a situation that was quickly becoming too intense, too difficult to manage. And what would happen when the year was up? Would I be forced to watch him walk away as soon as he was no longer bound to me? How could I open myself up to a relationship that already had an expiration date?

Go to sleep, Aria, Stryker’s voice murmured in my mind, you’re thinking too much.

Heat bloomed in my cheeks and I scowled -- damned daematis. Stop reading my mind and focus on keeping watch.

I’m an excellent multi-tasker.

Somehow his words conjured up images of his lips feathering down my neck to my chest. To the sensation of his fingers dragging up the hem of my simple tunic to run over the sensitive skin of my stomach, brushing higher to my…

I shifted uncomfortably, rolling to my other side and closed my eyes stubbornly. Goodnight, Stryker. The words lacked the brisk finality I’d hoped to achieve and sounded far to soft for a war seasoned soldier.

Goodnight, Aria.

Using every trick I’d learned from countless nights on campaigns and missions in uncomfortable or stressful places, I ordered my mind to clear and fell asleep.

_______________________________________________

The whisper of sound that woke me saved my life.

That, and the silence that followed. Without opening my eyes or interrupting the rhythm of my breathing, I listened to the woods around me. Silence in itself wasn’t dangerous until he recognized that none of the creatures that lived in the Spring woods were making a sound. As if the whole forest was holding its breath.

Carefully, slowly, I let my hand drift down toward the blade I’d left on the ground nearby. 

Something brushed over the dusty floor with a scrape of claws on stone and I rolled, missing the blow that was meant to smash my skull. The movement brought me closer to my knife and I came up slashing.

The creature that stood before me was like nothing I’d ever seen in Hybern. It’s skin gleamed with the faint outline of scales in the fractured moonlight through the ruined roof. Though it stood on two legs, it moved with oddly sinuous motions that matched the slitted features of its’ face and the protruded jawline.

Naga. A creature born of dark magic, twisted by rot and hate.

“Pretty sharp meat,” it crooned, eyes tracking the bright flicker of my weapon. “Maybe I’ll keep your skin as a trophy.”

“Unfortunately, I’m using it right now,” I said and watched it circle to my left, hands curl to display long claws stained dark with the blood I could scent in the air.

A new fear rippled down my spine. Where was Stryker? Why hadn’t he signaled that we were under attack?

With more brute strength than finesse, I lunged forward, eager to finish this and find out where my mate was. My knife cut a jagged slice down the creature’s side thanks to its quick scramble away. I ducked a rough swipe that ripped my hair free from the braid I’d worn to sleep and moved back to circle again.

“Bitch,” it hissed furiously.

“That was me being nice.”

Roaring its fury, the naga rushed forward, claws reaching with the intent to end this fight quickly. I waited until it was only a few steps away before I threw the ash and iron knife to sink deep in its chest. Black blood seeped into clothing already stained by countless fleshy meals and it fell to its knees in a slump of broken defeat.

I waited until it stopped twitching before I pulled the blade free and wiped it clean on my pants. “And that was me being a bitch.”

Quickly, I grabbed one of my swords from my pack and hurried outside. With limited visibility, I didn’t want to risk my glaive cutting into Stryker as I fought. Instead of walking out the front door, I pulled myself through the rafters where the naga had slipped into the hut and crouched low so my form wasn’t silhouetted against the skyline.

I scanned the trees but couldn’t make out any clear shapes through the shadows created by the full moon hanging above me. The damned thing probably made it all too easy for the naga to track and attack us. 

Fear like I’d never known before was running through my veins like a frozen current. Where was he? Was I too late?

The sound of branches crackling under the tread of running bodies had my head snapping to the right in time to see Stryker rushing towards the stone cabin, trailed by two of the naga pack. Relief, hot and devastating swamped me and I stood without thinking, reaching for the throwing knives I kept tucked into my boots and dropping the blade I’d used to end the first beast into the waist of my pants. I threw the first with all the enhanced strength left in my body, catching the frontrunner high in the shoulder.

It screamed in fury and pain for a bare second before my second knife cut the sound off forever.

Stryker’s eyes swept up to where I stood, snarling in triumph, and I watched his relief turn into something darker. Aria, his voice roared in my mind, behind you!

Something hard slammed into my back between one heart beat and the next, tumbling me off the roof to smash into the ground below. My breath left my lungs in a woosh and stars bloomed in my vision as I landed hard on my back with the weight of the naga crushing me to the earth. 

“Aria!” 

I heard the scream of a naga’s rage nearby followed by the familiar sound of a blade cutting through the air to sink into flesh before my world narrowed to the putrid breath and snapping teeth of the naga above me.

“That was my brother you killed, bitch,” she hissed, snapping rows of jagged teeth at me. 

I threw up an arm to shove her back in time to keep her from sinking them into my neck. “I can see the resemblance,” I grunted and was rewarded with a backhand that turned my vision grey.

Shaking my head to clear it, I bucked hard, trying to unseat her from her position and free my arms enough so I could grab a weapon -- anything to keep from letting this disgusting creature end me. She rode out the movement with a wicked cackle, but was distracted momentarily by the sound of something moving closer to us. 

My fingers scrabbled in the dirt, reaching for a rock to bash her skull in. I had to get back to Stryker, had to make sure he was okay.

Another roar of fury seemed to shake the stone walls nearby and the naga above me looked nervous, trying to decide if she should finish me off or help the rest of her pack. Decision made, she leaned in, mouth gaping open to strike the final blow and my fingers scrabbled against the ground. 

Not like this. Not now.

My forefinger touched the edge of something sharp the moment she used one clawed hand to yank my hair back so my neck was exposed. Fetid breath brushed across the sensitive skin and I felt the muscles of her jaw bulge as she opened her mouth to rip into the vulnerable flesh. 

“Aria!” Stryker bellowed, roaring his fury as he came around the corner of the house and I felt my fingers close around the jagged rock.

The naga went for my neck at the same time I slammed the pointed edge of the rock deep into her throat. The creature’s blood poured from the wound, coating my face and neck as her head fell forward against my neck and it was all I could do to keep her jaws away while her body trembled in its death throes.

Then the weight was lifted from me and I blinked up at the sight of Stryker ripping his sword free of the creature’s back, hurling the limp body out of sight. He fell to the ground beside me, hands gentle on my chest and neck. “Just hold still, Aria,” he murmured, voice shaky, “You’re going to be okay.”

I realized then that even with a bright moon in the sky, there wasn’t much difference between the red of my blood and the black blood from my foe. Grinning up at him, I reached up to grab his shirt and yanked him down to me.

Stryker made a surprised sound when I wrapped my hands around him, taking the opportunity to run my own fingers over him for any wounds. “I’m okay -- it’s okay. Not my blood,” I whispered and felt the air rush free from his lungs. His arms tightened almost painfully around me and he rocked gently, running his fingers through my knotted and dirty hair. Carefully he pulled me forward until I was cradled in his lap, surrounded by the scent of jasmine and blood.

I didn’t begrudge him his panic and need to touch me after the unexpected attack. The same raw need was slowly dying in my soul, leeching away the longer I was safe and sheltered in his arms.

“What happened to you?” I finally asked, pulling back so I could frown at him. “Why’d you leave your post?”

“I felt the pack getting closer and thought I could lead them away from the campsite and dispatch them,” he explained, “After I got a mile or so from camp, I realized that half the group was doubling back and realized they knew you were in the cabin.” The look in his eyes made me shiver and I reached without thinking to smooth away the frown lines on his face. “I saw it knock you off the roof and I...I stopped thinking.”

There was a long moment of silence where we just sat, drawing comfort from the steady breathing of the other. No wonder there were so many tales of mates raining destruction on anyone or anything that threatened their partner.

“I’m glad to finally see that you can defend yourself,” I finally teased, “I was worried I would have to constantly be looking after you.”

Stryker grinned, “You’re still welcome to protect me anytime you like.” I smiled back and he winced, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look hideous.”

I glanced down at the mixture of drying blood and dirt on my shirt and could feel the layer on my face beginning to crack and chip. Now that the beginnings of dawn were turning the woods around us from the darkness of night to the grey of morning, I could see the remains of our ambush around us. We’d need to clear the evidence of our campsite before moving further along the Wall. 

But before I even thought of getting back on trail, I needed to bathe. All this blood would attract the wrong kind of attention here.

Standing, I held out a hand to help Stryker to his feet and looked around the clearing. “Let’s get the bodies out of sight and clear away anything that can be linked to us. I think there’s a stream nearby we can use to clean up.”

He nodded and went to work, dragging the bodies into the dense ferns at the edge of the campsite where they could be eaten away at by the insects and scavengers of the wood. I helped pull the larger of the naga, examining their serpentine bodies with curiosity. I was grateful that these weren’t native to the plains of my homeland, though our monsters were more numerous.

By the time we finished, the woods were already teaming with early morning activity. Packs in hand, we walked deeper into the trees, heading toward the sounds of water that I’d caught yesterday and I felt my nerves reappear. The relief I’d felt seeing Stryker -- whole, healthy -- was starting to chip away in the light of day and I wasn’t sure where the moment with the naga left us.

The sight of the creek emptying into a still pool was a gift and a curse. I could feel myself hovering on the precipice of something amazing, something terrifying. He wanted more and, in my moments of clarity, I did too. 

Stryker stepped past me to crouch down and take a long drink of water from his cupped hands. The line of his shoulders flowed seamlessly into narrow hips and I watched the muscles in his back flex with each movement with a suddenly dry mouth. I wanted him. He wanted me. All I had to do was step off this cliff and see if I fell or flew.

So I leapt.


	13. Chapter 13

Before I could lose my nerve, I pulled my ruined shirt over my head and tossed it and my pants by my pack. I walked toward the water silently, stepping into the cool liquid with bare feet. 

Stryker caught the movement in the corner of his eyes and wiped away the water that dribbled from his hands on his pants, “I think we can follow the stream to -- “ Whatever he intended to say was cut off with a strangled sound when his eyes slowly tracked up the naked skin of my calves and climbed up.

And up.

Heat followed in the wake of his eyes and I smiled, feeling wicked and flushed with victory. Just to prove I could, I raised my hands into a full body stretch that eased the last of the tension from my shoulders. I arched an eyebrow at Stryker whose mouth continued to open and close wordlessly, eyes fixed on me. 

“You were saying?” I asked politely with a bat of my eyelashes.

His fingers clenched in the muddy ground below him as though he were trying to keep from reaching out. “You are going to be the death of me,” he breathed.

I smiled a siren’s smile and stepped deeper into the water until it was up to my waist and dropped below the surface, slicking back my wet hair and watching the blood of battle drip away. I paddled idly through the cool water and sighed happily at the sensation after traveling for so long. hen I looked back, he was still watching me with enough heat that I felt an answering flush move through my skin and settle deep in my stomach. Despite the temperature of the water, I felt warm and wild in a way that made me feel dangerous in a way that was completely different from the Arena.

So I arched an eyebrow at him and said, “Aren’t you coming in?”

Stryker blinked slowly, distracted by the curve of my breast peeking free by my arm. “Are you sure?” His voice had dropped an octave to something close to a purr and I felt shivers break out over my exposed skin.

I took another step, letting the water drift over my torso until I was mostly covered by the clear liquid. My fingers moved through the water, enjoying the sensation against overheated skin.

A thought occurred to me then and I faltered. “Unless you aren’t?”

“Don’t,” it was little more than a snarl, “Don’t ever think I don’t want you.”

My smile returned -- and with it my nerves -- so that it took all my courage not to hide from the promise in his eyes. “Then what are you waiting for?”

He dragged his shirt over his head to expose the tawny skin that I’d appreciated from afar on the ship, never taking his eyes off me. For a fae from the Night Court, it was obvious the sun loved every tanned inch of the broad shoulders and chiseled muscles of his core. Scars were scattered over his arms and chest like an intriguing puzzle for me to uncover. 

I made a mental note to thank whichever supply clerk back at camp that found the low slung pants that clung tenaciously to his hip bones, edged by a line of muscle that my eyes followed with anticipation.

Stryker noted my attention and gave me a wicked grin, “See something you like, commander?”

“I’m about to.”

Green eyes went dark and the growl that rumbled out of him made something low in me clench. His hands dropped to the waist of his pants and my mouth went dry, eyes fixed to the movement of his fingers as he unfastened the ties and let the fabric slowly drop to the ground.

Then it was my turn to stare.

“I could watch you watching me for days,” he rasped and I licked my lips.

“Come here.”

Without an ounce of modesty or embarrassment, Stryker stepped into the water. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to run forward or backwards so I remained in place, watching him prowl forward with predatory intent. 

The first brush of his fingers around the curve of my waist had goosebumps breaking out over my skin as he slowly pulled me into the heat of his body. Coaxing, daring me to give in to the invisible pull of the mate bond.

“And me,” he whispered and I looked up in surprise at the vulnerability in his voice in response to my thoughts. None of the teasing confidence I expected remained in the forest green of his eyes, but he didn’t flinch away from my gaze. “I want you to want me. Not just the mate bond.”

The admission stole the air from my lungs and filled it with liquid starlight. As if his trust had given me the wings I’d always wished for.

Words had never come easily to me. Words could be twisted with hidden meanings and falsehoods. I preferred the open honesty of a blade at your throat or the sound of laughter edged beyond the polite chuckles of the courtesans that graced the nobility’s tents into the wild explosions of delight that was more common around the fires outside. Action took risk and heart and courage and left far too many questions answered.

So I let my actions speak for me.

My hands found anchors in the soft darkness of his hair and the expression of soft wonder on his face. He let me pull him forward, let me lead the dance that would change everything. Would mean everything.

His breath fanned over my skin, matching the warm flush that spread through my body. Making me reckless. Making me brave. The first touch of his lips against mine was like a jolt of electricity and I felt the shields I’d built around our growing mate bond crumble until I could feel the surprise and hope in his mind like it was my own. Breaking and remaking my heart with each beat of his. 

What started as a gentle brush of lips rekindled the lust that had been simmering between us since the moment he’d posed as my lover at camp. All I could think about was the way he’d touched me then, fearless and so damned sexy in spite of the situation.

What would it feel like to have no distractions and all that wicked heat focused on me?

Stryker’s lips twitched into a languid smile and he stepped into me, bringing his bigger body flush against mine. The hand resting on the curve of my waist slid to my back, urging me closer until my world began and ended on the gentle brush of his skin against mine. His head dipped to trail a line of kisses down my jaw to the edge of one pointed ear.

“I knew it,” he purred into my ear and I shivered again, trying to get my hazy mind to focus on his words when his hand was trailing up the curve of my spine to settle against the nape of my neck.

“Knew what?”

“You like me.” His grin was close to feral as he crushed me tighter to him, eyes going dark at the sensation of my breasts against his chest. “You don’t want to admit it, mate, but you like me.”

I started to instinctively protest, but lost my train of thought when the nibbles across my jawline turned into a nip along my neck, his tongue darting out to ease the small sting. “You think I’m charming.” Another nip. “And handsome.” A kiss on the top of my shoulder. “And sexy.” He drawled the last words in my ear, making my knees turn to mush along with the last of my rational thoughts about how bad of an idea this could be.

My fingers tangled in the dark mass of his hair and I pulled him down to me. “Shut up and kiss me,” I growled.

His chuckle turned into a groan when I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth and bit him in return for his teasing. Gasping into his mouth when his hands clenched into the hair at the back of my neck, tilting my head up so he could plunder my mouth with teeth and tongue. One of his clever little hands slipped up to cup the weight of my breast in his palm and tease the peak with a calloused thumb until need pulsed through me in a warm rush. My hands trailed over the sculpted planes of his shoulders, his chest to the music of his uneven breath.

The evidence of his desire throbbed against my stomach in silent anticipation and it was an effort not to reach down and explore his body for myself. The mate bond made every movement between us like electricity, building our desire into a fever pitch.

Stryker broke away from my mouth to rest his forehead against mine, breath ragged and eyes glittering. “Not the mate bond.”

I blinked, eyes still fixed on his mouth. “What?” I didn’t wait for his response as I gave into the temptation of tracing the strong line of throat to feel the vibration of his growl against my lips.

“I don’t give a damn about the mate bond,” he said on the edge of another sound of pleasure when I found a particularly sensitive spot on his neck and sucked on it. “I would want you even if we weren’t mates.”

I paused, leaning back so I could watch the sincerity in his eyes. “You barely know me.”

“Everything I’ve seen tells me you are courageous and daring enough to make any one proud to call you their own.” He tipped my chin up to gently press his lips against the corners of my mouth. “And kind despite every opportunity and excuse to be cruel—“ I frowned, opening my mouth to protest, but he silenced me with another kiss. “—you have fought and bled to give the forgotten and broken creatures that everyone else would prefer to forget a safe home.”

“I’m no saint,” I protested. “Everyone in my legion earns their place and fights for the army.”

He smiled gently, “They fight for you.” His knuckles brushed my cheek, wiping away at the last of the blood on my face. “You are good, Aria of the Damned Legion, and I am proud to call you my mate.”

The heat that had burned beneath my skin faltered under the sincerity in his eyes. The relationship between us felt like it was becoming more and more complicated with every moment we spent together. 

Stryker seemed to sense the weight of the moment shift and leaned forward to press a kiss against each of my eyelids. “This isn’t the place for this kind of conversation… we should probably get moving.”

I nodded, trying not to acknowledge the disappointed burn in my chest. “You’re right. We still have to meet with the others.”

When I started to move past him back to shore, his fingers tightened around my arm, voice rough as gravel. “But we will have this conversation when we aren’t in danger of being attacked again.” That hand drifted lower over the tight muscles of my stomach and lower still before it paused. “Are you wearing a knife?”

It took me a moment to cobble together my thoughts to remember that I hadn’t taken off the wicked little knife I tended to wear under my clothing for emergencies. My chin tilted slightly in silent challenge. “Yes,” I said stiffly, “Is that a problem?”

Those clever fingers brushed along the leather harness in a touch that made me shiver. Stryker leaned down to rest his head against the crook of my neck and took a deep breath. “I’ve never been so turned on by an armed women before,” he said a little breathlessly. “I think I have a problem.”

I laughed, feeling lighter than I had before and waded toward the bank where my stinking clothes waited. Quickly, I dug through the packs until I found a spare pair of pants and a tunic and smiled at Stryker, “Come on, let’s get this over with so we can have that talk.”


	14. Chapter 14

“Tell me about yourself.”

The softly spoken demand came after several hours of companionable silence while we trekked through the seemingless endless green of the Spring woods. It made me pause in surprise and look back at Stryker with a frown. “You already know about me. I’m a commander in Hybern’s army and --”

“Not that,” he said impatiently, “I meant before that.”

I blinked in surprise and quickly looked back at the trees before the old grief returned. It was a hollow feeling, tempered by time now. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spoken of my childhood, of my mother. 

But...I told myself I was going to give Stryker a chance.

“What do you want to know?”

He sped up until he was walking beside me, quiet as he lifted a branch so I could duck under it. If I touched the bond that remained like an invisible link between us, I could feel his burning curiosity mixed with...hesitation. Worry that I would turn and run if he pressed too hard.

Finally, he released a breath. “Do you have family?”

I nodded, trying to seem casual. Like I talked about my mother to everyone. “I was raised by my mother,” I said slowly, choosing my words with care, “but she died when I was a teenager.”

“And your father?”

“Never met him. My mother made the choice to keep me away from him and I never questioned that decision.” Not when I could see the evidence of his evil all around me.

A few moments passed by while Stryker processed this. So much so, that I was surprised when his deep voice rumbled through the trees, “Tell me about her.”

“Are you interrogating me now?” I joked to try to alleviate the new pressure in my chest.

Stryker’s eyes were solemn when they met mine. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

The understanding in his expression was my undoing. This thing between us felt wild and all-consuming like the storms that crashed into the coast of of our island each year. How would I be able to survive the devastation left in its wake?

“My mother,” I began with a note of pride that still hadn’t gone away even after all this time, “was a fearsome warrior in the king’s army. She rose in the ranks with her ability to control and create storm winds and lightning storms to rain devastation on her enemies.”

He made a choking sound. “Your mother was the Storm Siren?”

A sudden thought made my stomach turn cold, “Did you fight against her?”

“No, no, she -- she was before my time,” Stryker explained, still looking a little wide-eyed. “But I’ve heard of her.”

We paused to navigate across a narrow steam using a semi-submerged log as a bridge. It creaked out a protest but held long enough for Stryker to dart across the moss-slick wood. I reached out a hand to steady him before continuing to speak, “Unfortunately, her skill wasn’t what attracted my father to her. He saw her a wild creature for him to collect -- a beautiful trophy to chain and control until he got tired of her. He wanted a siren instead of the warrior she was.”

“So how did she escape?”

Now was the time to be cautious, I thought. Even if he was my mate, there was no guarantee that this wouldn’t drive him away from me for good. He’d already proven to be dedicated to his cause as much as I was dedicated to my legion. It was an admirable trait, but unyielding. I found I wasn’t ready to lose his trust just yet.

So I picked my words carefully. “Just before the great war began, my mother found out that she was with child and she was forced to make a decision. Even though he caged her, she loved him - “ That was a truth her mother had never admitted out loud, but I remembered how silent she’d been when the news of the army’s loss trickled in to our remote village. How she’d wept as quietly as she could that night in her small bed. “ - She knew her child wouldn’t be safe, that it would become a pawn in a dangerous game. So, when he went to fight in the war, she made her move.”

The rest was struggle to survive in the inhospitable mountains as far away from the capital as possible. To keep her identity secret, my mother was forced to accept menial labor jobs that whittled away the pride in her stance, the strength in her movement.

The disease that took her was a mercy in many ways.

The incessant humming sounded fainter here and I angled closer to see if there was any change. I wasn’t quite ready to speak of the devastation I’d felt watching the light fade from her eyes. Wasn’t ready to describe what burying the only person who’d loved me in a shallow grave marked only by the smooth stones I’d carried there.

“She begged me not to go to the army,” I whispered after a long moment, “but it was the army or starvation so…”

“She would have been proud of what you’ve done,” Stryker murmured and I had to look away from the sincerity in his eyes. It took several breaths to chase away the burning in my eyes.

“So, how did you become a spy?”

He smiled faintly, recognizing my retreat but choosing not to remark on it. “My heritage is not as prestigious as yours, I’m afraid. My parents were probably poor farmers unable to afford another mouth to feed so they left me at an orphanage in the capital.”

I stopped to look out him, one hand finding itself holding on to the sleeve of his shirt to keep from grabbing his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago,” Stryker said with a shrug before he winked at me, “Unless you’re into sad backstories because I could --”

Laughing, I let go of him and walked to the buzzing invisible barrier that I somehow needed to cross. For the first time since we reached the Wall, the humming noise wasn’t mind-numbingly loud. I walked with one hand outstretched until my fingers connected with something that felt like pure electricity.

Only this time, my hand kept moving.

“I think it’s weaker here,” I called over my shoulder to Stryker. “I’m going to check it out, stay here.”

“Aria, I don’t think -- “

Before he could finish the thought, the awful power moving up my arm and swallowing my thoughts. My lungs seized, trying to force air past gritted teeth. Power flooded my body, spreading over my skin like needles that raked over my skin to my bones. It took all of my concentration to keep moving forward. Keep moving through the blinding need to collapse into a shivering mess.

Then that awful pressure was gone and I was collapsing onto green grass. 

Gasping, I rolled over onto my back and stared up at the tree branches above me, suppressing the urge to cheer. I was the first fae to cross the barrier into the mortal lands since the Wall was first created. Take that Cauldron. 

Still smiling, I got to my feet and took stock. Oddly, even though I knew the Wall was in front of me, all I could see was an endless expanse of trees in front of me. The woods lacked the same verdant wildness of the Spring Court and the air felt crisp with the onset of fall. It felt painfully grey in comparison to the lush woods I’d seen in Prythian and I wondered how humans managed to survive in such a barren environment.

Stryker? I shouted down the mate bond and frowned in surprise when only silence answered me. Maybe the Wall halted more than just magical beings.

Letting out a slow breath, I turned back to the Wall and tried to prepared myself for the agony of moving through it once again.

It wasn’t enough.

When I stepped through a few moments later, I was triumphant. “I made it through!” I cheered, turning to try to find Stryker in the trees, “I actually made it --”

Abruptly I was yanked off my feet and slammed against the rough bark of a tree. Only the familiar scent of Stryker kept me from sinking the ash knife in my hand deep into his chest. Still, it took all my strength not to sink my teeth into the hand he had pressed against my mouth.

“Shh…” he breathed, eyes on the woods in front of us and all traces of humor hidden, “Hush or they’ll hear you.”

I went still, reaching out with my senses until the air shifted on the hunters nearby. The four Spring Court fae were utterly still, no doubt searching for whatever noise we made walking toward them. This was bad. If we tipped off anyone in the Spring Court that we were here, testing the walls, the new High Lord wouldn’t rest until he hunted us down. 

My Core would be at risk all because I got distracted.

My hand wrapped more tightly around my knife and, before I could second guess the decision, I opened my mind to Stryker. The link between us flared to life and instantly I could feel the intensity of his focus on the other guards mingling with surprise at what must be the first time I actually reached for the bond between us.

Can you break into their minds? Send them away? I asked.

He looked thoughtful before shaking his head, eyes flicking to mine. They’re shielding too hard.

My lips flattened into a tense line and I leaned around the trunk of the massive oak to catch a glimpse of the patrol moving closer. There had to be some way to get them away from here without giving away our mission. We were moving past the point of being able to escape without killing them all.

I have an idea, Stryker said abruptly.

An idea? Or a plan?

A plan. I have a plan, he replied and the bit of mischief flashing in his eyes made me narrow my eyes.

Is it a good plan? I pressed.

The grin was back in full force now. It’s a plan.

A soft snap of a twig nearby warned me that our time was running short. So what’s this plan? I asked, trying not to let my breath stir the leaves around us.

Simple. You’re going to go in there and distract them while I sneak around behind and launch a surprise attack. We’ll knock them unconscious and I’ll just slip in their minds and erase their memories of us.

He made it sound like he was asking me to go for a walk through flowers, not confront a group of highly trained scouts. Without killing any of them.

And just how am I supposed to distract them?

Stryker’s eyes turned hooded and some of his smirk died as his mind muttered, It’ll be easy. You just need to seduce them.

I barely controlled my snort at that. Seduce them? I’m about as seductive as a naga.

It would work on me, he purred, if you want to practice.

That’s just whatever magic comes with this mate bond nonsense, I said dismissively, but I looked back at the males coming into view a little more speculatively.

I don’t have time to argue, he growled and shifted his hands to trail down my arms to the ash dagger I was clutching like a security blanket.

This is the worst plan I’ve ever heard.


	15. Chapter 15

Before I could lose my nerve, I pulled my ruined shirt over my head and tossed it and my pants by my pack. I walked toward the water silently, stepping into the cool liquid with bare feet.

Stryker caught the movement in the corner of his eyes and wiped away the water that dribbled from his hands on his pants, "I think we can follow the stream to - " Whatever he intended to say was cut off with a strangled sound when his eyes slowly tracked up the naked skin of my calves and climbed up.

And up.

Heat followed in the wake of his eyes and I smiled, feeling wicked and flushed with victory. Just to prove I could, I raised my hands into a full body stretch that eased the last of the tension from my shoulders. I arched an eyebrow at Stryker whose mouth continued to open and close wordlessly, eyes fixed on me.

"You were saying?" I asked politely with a bat of my eyelashes.

His fingers clenched in the muddy ground below him as though he were trying to keep from reaching out. "You are going to be the death of me," he breathed.

I smiled a siren's smile and stepped deeper into the water until it was up to my waist and dropped below the surface, slicking back my wet hair and watching the blood of battle drip away. I paddled idly through the cool water and sighed happily at the sensation after traveling for so long. hen I looked back, he was still watching me with enough heat that I felt an answering flush move through my skin and settle deep in my stomach. Despite the temperature of the water, I felt warm and wild in a way that made me feel dangerous in a way that was completely different from the Arena.

So I arched an eyebrow at him and said, "Aren't you coming in?"

Stryker blinked slowly, distracted by the curve of my breast peeking free by my arm. "Are you sure?" His voice had dropped an octave to something close to a purr and I felt shivers break out over my exposed skin.

I took another step, letting the water drift over my torso until I was mostly covered by the clear liquid. My fingers moved through the water, enjoying the sensation against overheated skin.

A thought occurred to me then and I faltered. "Unless you aren't?"

"Don't," it was little more than a snarl, "Don't ever think I don't want you."

My smile returned - and with it my nerves - so that it took all my courage not to hide from the promise in his eyes. "Then what are you waiting for?"

He dragged his shirt over his head to expose the tawny skin that I'd appreciated from afar on the ship, never taking his eyes off me. For a fae from the Night Court, it was obvious the sun loved every tanned inch of the broad shoulders and chiseled muscles of his core. Scars were scattered over his arms and chest like an intriguing puzzle for me to uncover.

I made a mental note to thank whichever supply clerk back at camp that found the low slung pants that clung tenaciously to his hip bones, edged by a line of muscle that my eyes followed with anticipation.

Stryker noted my attention and gave me a wicked grin, "See something you like, commander?"

"I'm about to."

Green eyes went dark and the growl that rumbled out of him made something low in me clench. His hands dropped to the waist of his pants and my mouth went dry, eyes fixed to the movement of his fingers as he unfastened the ties and let the fabric slowly drop to the ground.

Then it was my turn to stare.

"I could watch you watching me for days," he rasped and I licked my lips.

"Come here."

Without an ounce of modesty or embarrassment, Stryker stepped into the water. I wasn't sure if I wanted to run forward or backwards so I remained in place, watching him prowl forward with predatory intent.

The first brush of his fingers around the curve of my waist had goosebumps breaking out over my skin as he slowly pulled me into the heat of his body. Coaxing, daring me to give in to the invisible pull of the mate bond.

"And me," he whispered and I looked up in surprise at the vulnerability in his voice in response to my thoughts. None of the teasing confidence I expected remained in the forest green of his eyes, but he didn't flinch away from my gaze. "I want you to want me. Not just the mate bond."

The admission stole the air from my lungs and filled it with liquid starlight. As if his trust had given me the wings I'd always wished for.

Words had never come easily to me. Words could be twisted with hidden meanings and falsehoods. I preferred the open honesty of a blade at your throat or the sound of laughter edged beyond the polite chuckles of the courtesans that graced the nobility's tents into the wild explosions of delight that was more common around the fires outside. Action took risk and heart and courage and left far too many questions answered.

So I let my actions speak for me.

My hands found anchors in the soft darkness of his hair and the expression of soft wonder on his face. He let me pull him forward, let me lead the dance that would change everything. Would mean everything.

His breath fanned over my skin, matching the warm flush that spread through my body. Making me reckless. Making me brave. The first touch of his lips against mine was like a jolt of electricity and I felt the shields I'd built around our growing mate bond crumble until I could feel the surprise and hope in his mind like it was my own. Breaking and remaking my heart with each beat of his.

What started as a gentle brush of lips rekindled the lust that had been simmering between us since the moment he'd posed as my lover at camp. All I could think about was the way he'd touched me then, fearless and so damned sexy in spite of the situation.

What would it feel like to have no distractions and all that wicked heat focused on me?

Stryker's lips twitched into a languid smile and he stepped into me, bringing his bigger body flush against mine. The hand resting on the curve of my waist slid to my back, urging me closer until my world began and ended on the gentle brush of his skin against mine. His head dipped to trail a line of kisses down my jaw to the edge of one pointed ear.

"I knew it," he purred into my ear and I shivered again, trying to get my hazy mind to focus on his words when his hand was trailing up the curve of my spine to settle against the nape of my neck.

"Knew what?"

"You like me." His grin was close to feral as he crushed me tighter to him, eyes going dark at the sensation of my breasts against his chest. "You don't want to admit it, mate, but you like me."

I started to instinctively protest, but lost my train of thought when the nibbles across my jawline turned into a nip along my neck, his tongue darting out to ease the small sting. "You think I'm charming." Another nip. "And handsome." A kiss on the top of my shoulder. "And sexy." He drawled the last words in my ear, making my knees turn to mush along with the last of my rational thoughts about how bad of an idea this could be.

My fingers tangled in the dark mass of his hair and I pulled him down to me. "Shut up and kiss me," I growled.

His chuckle turned into a groan when I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth and bit him in return for his teasing. Gasping into his mouth when his hands clenched into the hair at the back of my neck, tilting my head up so he could plunder my mouth with teeth and tongue. One of his clever little hands slipped up to cup the weight of my breast in his palm and tease the peak with a calloused thumb until need pulsed through me in a warm rush. My hands trailed over the sculpted planes of his shoulders, his chest to the music of his uneven breath.

The evidence of his desire throbbed against my stomach in silent anticipation and it was an effort not to reach down and explore his body for myself. The mate bond made every movement between us like electricity, building our desire into a fever pitch.

Stryker broke away from my mouth to rest his forehead against mine, breath ragged and eyes glittering. "Not the mate bond."

I blinked, eyes still fixed on his mouth. "What?" I didn't wait for his response as I gave into the temptation of tracing the strong line of throat to feel the vibration of his growl against my lips.

"I don't give a damn about the mate bond," he said on the edge of another sound of pleasure when I found a particularly sensitive spot on his neck and sucked on it. "I would want you even if we weren't mates."

I paused, leaning back so I could watch the sincerity in his eyes. "You barely know me."

"Everything I've seen tells me you are courageous and daring enough to make any one proud to call you their own." He tipped my chin up to gently press his lips against the corners of my mouth. "And kind despite every opportunity and excuse to be cruel—" I frowned, opening my mouth to protest, but he silenced me with another kiss. "—you have fought and bled to give the forgotten and broken creatures that everyone else would prefer to forget a safe home."

"I'm no saint," I protested. "Everyone in my legion earns their place and fights for the army."

He smiled gently, "They fight for you." His knuckles brushed my cheek, wiping away at the last of the blood on my face. "You are good, Aria of the Damned Legion, and I am proud to call you my mate."

The heat that had burned beneath my skin faltered under the sincerity in his eyes. The relationship between us felt like it was becoming more and more complicated with every moment we spent together.

Stryker seemed to sense the weight of the moment shift and leaned forward to press a kiss against each of my eyelids. "This isn't the place for this kind of conversation… we should probably get moving."

I nodded, trying not to acknowledge the disappointed burn in my chest. "You're right. We still have to meet with the others."

When I started to move past him back to shore, his fingers tightened around my arm, voice rough as gravel. "But we will have this conversation when we aren't in danger of being attacked again." That hand drifted lower over the tight muscles of my stomach and lower still before it paused. "Are you wearing a knife?"

It took me a moment to cobble together my thoughts to remember that I hadn't taken off the wicked little knife I tended to wear under my clothing for emergencies. My chin tilted slightly in silent challenge. "Yes," I said stiffly, "Is that a problem?"

Those clever fingers brushed along the leather harness in a touch that made me shiver. Stryker leaned down to rest his head against the crook of my neck and took a deep breath. "I've never been so turned on by an armed women before," he said a little breathlessly. "I think I have a problem."

I laughed, feeling lighter than I had before and waded toward the bank where my stinking clothes waited. Quickly, I dug through the packs until I found a spare pair of pants and a tunic and smiled at Stryker, "Come on, let's get this over with so we can have that talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in chapters - I've been out of town for a wedding and have to wade through my pileup of work before writing. Thankfully this chapter was mostly done. I'd intended for it to be a little more adult, but I think if I'd pushed that aspect of their relationship this early, Aria would have just written it off as a physical itch to scratch. Exciting things are coming though. :)


	16. Chapter 16

This was the worst plan I'd ever heard.

Even worse, it was now the only plan we had since Stryker had disappeared while I was still trying to formulate a response that didn't consist of incredulous noises. Just melted into the damned trees like a wood nymph leaving me to try to figure out an actual plan for distracting the guards instead of focusing on the long lists of reason why his idea was stupid.

Reason one: I couldn't remember the last time I'd flirted with anyone.

Flirting at Stryker hardly counted when we had the mate bond's magic practically hurling us at each other. Normally when I had an itch to scratch, which wasn't often, it was a matter of physical attraction and confidentiality. I didn't need a male looking for an easy way to climb the camp hierarchy or one that would expect more from me long term. Such attachments were too messy for my tastes.

It was best to take my pleasure and leave before they got any ideas about what it might mean.

Stryker groaned in my mind. Please tell me you aren't about to think about other males you've slept with while I can still hear your thoughts.

Serves him right for putting me in this position, I thought unapologetically as I silently slipped away from the rough bark of the tree he'd pressed me against. All my senses remained focused on the small crackles and snap of branches that marked where the Spring sentinels were in the trees ahead of me. Carefully, I leaned my glaive against the tree I was hiding behind - it would attract too much of their attention if I appeared so openly armed when I approached them. It made adrenaline pulse through my veins in a heady rush at the thought of facing them without my weapons.

I took a breath and tried to focus on something more intriguing - the wash of jealousy I could still feel leaking from Stryker.

Don't tell me you're a virgin, spy, I drawled through our link before grinning to myself, and I never said I sought out males.

There was a rustle in the bushes nearby and I didn't think I was imagining that Stryker had stumbled in his silent stalk through the bushes at the images my casual statement had produced. It made my shoulders shake with silent amusement.

Minx, he growled.

My laughter faded when the sounds of movement moved closer and I could feel the predatory intent of the fae soldiers turning in my direction. Quickly, ruthlessly, I shoved my magic down deep, beneath dense layers of endless shields and safeguards. It would not do to look like a threat this close to the Wall. Better to appear like a harmless fae female wandering the woods.

Reason two: My livelihood relied on my ability to intimidate and terrify my enemies.

So how in the Mother's name was I supposed to convince these sentinels I wasn't a threat? Losing the glaive was a start, but it wasn't going to hide the rest of the weapons I was carrying. Hell, I was even known to kill fae with my bare hands on occasion.

Now you're really trying to turn me on, Stryker groaned through our link and a smug smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. It should worry me how quickly I was getting used to him in my head, but I was willing to overlook the implications when the distraction was useful to keep me relaxed in the face of this stupid idea.

An unarmed fae would probably raise more alarms this far out in the woods with naga roaming around, I decided. Maybe I could use that to my advantage. Decision made, I raced towards the sounds ahead taking care to make enough noise that there was no way they wouldn't hear me coming when I burst through last line of trees between us.

I wrapped my arms around the closest sentinel with a ragged sob of relief. "Thank the Mother!" I sobbed, tightening my hold on him when he made a sound of surprise and attempted to push me away.

The rest of the group tightened their hold on their weapons and I felt more than one tugging at their magic in preparation for a fight. The male I was clutching at finally managed to push me away from his body with a frown marring the handsome lines of his face. "What are you doing out here?"

His brown eyes flicked over the sword at my waist and down the shirt I'd unbuttoned in preparation for this moment. Lingered there.

Silly males were all the same.

Suppressing a smile, I babbled, "I've been wandering the woods for days! My job - I mean, I work for a merchant and I, we were traveling to one of the villages nearby and - oh it was awful!"

One of the other sentinels, a blonde male, scowled at me and made an impatient gesture. "Just answer the question, female."

"We were attacked!" I bleated in what I felt was a good mimicry of one of the more dramatic of the camp follower's antics, "A swarm of naga came out of nowhere and -"

"How did you survive?" Blondie didn't look impressed with my attempts to look like I was about to cry. Tough crowd.

The first sentinel I'd grabbed reached out and brushed a gentle hand over the other's arm, causing the skeptic to turn and give him a fond smile that my eyebrows arch in surprise. He lingered just a few moments beyond a friendly touch and the others rolled their eyes at their teams behavior in a way that indicated it was commonplace. My eyebrows rose in sudden understanding as to why my attempts to flirt were falling short.

Reason three: Apparently Stryker was the one who might have had a better chance flirting them into a stupor.

I tried to send him a pointed 'told you so' but there was only silence. I hoped that meant he was busy breaking through the sentinel's mental shields while they were focused on me.

So I gave a shaky sigh and stepped back enough so they could see my hands remained far away from any obvious weapons. Wiping away at nonexistent tears, I made a fluttering gesture and hunched my shoulders in an approximation of shame. "One of the caravan's guards told me to hide when they first attacked. When - when they were distracted, I ran and didn't stop until I found you."

A flicker of pity and understanding moved through the sentinels at the implications of my story. Of a frightened young female escaping a massacre because of one guard's heroism and watched some of their suspicion ebb.

"Did you…" It wasn't hard to put a quaver of fear and hope in my voice at the question. It was a simple enough way to hear if any of the others had been captured. "Did you find anyone else?"

The answer was clear on their faces even before they shook their heads.

The first guard gave me a sympathetic look, "We've been patrolling the area west of here mostly, but maybe they made it into one of the towns nearby. We could help you get back to safety and see if any of the other patrols have found any other survivors."

Damn, I was beginning to feel bad for tricking them.

Blondie frowned, stepping closer to me. "Hey, where did you say you were from?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but only blinked in surprise when his eyes rolled back in his head. Between one breath and the next, the rest of their small unit collapsed in heaps beside him. Letting out a relieved sigh, I nudged Blondie with my toe and smiled when he remained still.

"Cutting it a little close, weren't you?"

I spun, hand automatically reaching for my knife before my mind identified the familiar sound. Jace leaned against one of the trees nearby with a shit eating grin on his face, comfortable enough that he must have been there for a while. I glared at him, "Were you planning on helping or just sitting back and watching me do all the hard work?"

"Watching you try to flirt was hard work," he teased and I scowled even as heat crawled up the back of my neck.

"What are you doing here? Surely you haven't covered all of the Wall this quickly."

Talia brushes passed him with an annoyed grunt at the tangle of vines still clinging to her. Her eyes flicked over me, presumably for any injuries before she answered a little smugly, "We already completed our half and yours. Where'd the pretty boy go off to?"

"Ah, Talia my sweet, I knew you were warming up to me," Stryker called to her from behind the unconscious sentinels and I smiled at him in greeting. "Unfortunately my heart is reserved for Aria alone."

That got me several raised eyebrows from my Core.

Ifrit appeared to the left of me and took in the unconscious sentinels and the blush on my face with an arched eyebrow. Her hands moved in a graceful dance of teasing and reassuring all at once. 'We need to move,' she signed quickly, 'those guards won't stay down forever.' A quick silver grin moved across her face, 'We can tease Aria as soon as we're clear.'

"Is anyone going to tell me why you're here?" I growled irritably.

For a few minutes, we were distracted from speech with the task of moving the guards off the trail and into the bushes nearby. I didn't want any creatures to attack them while they were unconscious - they were only doing their jobs after all - but we couldn't risk them following us. Once they were mostly covered by some bushes and vines, I turned back to my Core with an expectant face.

Jace smiled at my expression and held his hands up in a placating gesture. "We got lucky. Passed these sentinels in a tavern and overheard them discussing the Wall. They mentioned a few problem areas, so we followed them on their patrol."

"Wait," I said with a frown, "what were you doing in a tavern?"

Jace looked a little abashed, but Talia was unapologetic, "Just because you enjoy sleeping on cold dirt and eating nothing but moldy cheese for weeks on end doesn't mean we should all suffer."

Stryker made a discreet cough and I had the distinct impression he was trying not to laugh.

"You could have been spotted!" I snapped.

"We aren't stupid," she snarled back, not shrinking away from the irritation on my face, "and we were able to complete our mission faster."

Jace stepped in before the argument got any worse. "The sentinels went to two areas of the Wall where there were reports of increased naga and other predator activity. They think the beasts are moving beyond the Wall to the Mortal Lands, so we decided that was a good place to start." He glanced back at Ifrit who nodded at him to continue, "I was able to cross without much discomfort and eventually Ifrit managed to follow."

'Did you manage to find any others?' Ifrit asked.

I nodded, "We found one passable route, but we were slowed by a naga attack."

"Any injuries?" Talia gave us a more thorough inspection.

I waved her off. "No, we dispatched them easily."

Stryker's eyes met mine and I saw the same shadows that had greeted me when he pulled the naga off me. Any doubts about his commitment to me or my legion's safety faded in that darkness. I gave him a private smile and watched him blink in surprise, smile fierce and bright, before I looked back at the others.

"I guess we should head back to Frey then."

'Trask is going to shit a brick when get back early,' Ifrit signed with a wicked grin that spread to the rest of our group.

"We aim to please," I replied with a wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this new chapter! It's too bad we didn't get to watch Stryker charm the pants off the sentinels, but I intend to have him charm Aria's pants off soon. ;)
> 
> Thanks for all your reviews! They make my entire week!


	17. Chapter 17

Returning to Hybern felt like stepping deeper into a pool of tension that threatened to drown me with every breath. I tried not to stare at Stryker as he catnapped against a likely illegal shipment of goods Frey was ferrying back to Hybern with us. He’d collapsed there as soon as we’d set off and hit the smoother waves of the open channel. Whatever he’d done to keep those sentinels down had taken a toll on him, even Frey hadn’t tried to pester him like usual.

Frey had taken pity on the dark circles under my eyes and announced that he didn’t need the speed my winds could give him for the return journey so I settled onto a neat stack of ropes nearby, pretending I wasn’t keeping watch over my mate and worrying about the future.

I could practically feel the target that was always hanging on my back growing larger, encompassing those closest to me. Stryker was the one most obviously at risk -- no one would be punished for harming a would-be assassin and spy from Prythian. Even my Core weren’t completely sure as to why I had added him to our team. Why I was willing to take such a risk.

Stryker’s continued presence might be enough to tip the knife’s edge I walked in the camps. So far, the majority of the ranking officers in the army considered me a useful ally or, at the very least, an entertaining distraction between wars. The presence of a known Prythian sympathizer might change all of that. They wouldn’t consider a bargain bond linking his allegiance to me enough to accept his presence in our camp. 

The worst was the knowledge that if someone else had done the same, I would agree with their reasoning.

Jace flopped onto the weathered wooden boards beside me with a weary sigh, throwing one arm up to shield his eyes from the sun over head. “You look remarkably glum for someone who’s beaten the odds.”

“I’m happy.”

“You’re worried,” he replied steadily, turning so he could watch me. “And you’re trying to hide it.”

I huffed. “Since when are you a mind reader?”

He smiled and bumped my shoulder with his affectionately. “You don’t need to keep your corner on the ‘self sacrificing’ market, you know? You aren’t alone.”

I nodded, curling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. “I’m worried our luck is going to run out,” I finally whispered. “I can’t think of a way this ends well.”

Jace was silent for a long moment, the moment filled with the sound of the gulls circling overhead and the waves lapping against the boat. Talia and Ifrit were laughing at something Frey was telling them and I felt some of my tension ease in the sight. At least I could give them this. At least I could protect them for this day.

“Why do you continue to think that everything that happens revolves around something you did or didn’t do?” His voice was bitter and I looked up in surprise. None of the calm kindness I associated with Jace was present in the tight lips and the dark slash of his frown. “You are not some all powerful deity.”

Frowning at him, I scrambled for a defense against his unexpected attack. “You are all my responsibili --”

“Oh, give it a rest already,” he growled, “We choose to serve in your legion. We aren’t dumb enough to think that comes without risks or danger when you’re practically bleeding out in the sands every other week.”

I flushed. “I do not bleed out that often.”

Jace threw back his head and laughed at my affronted tone and after a few beats I joined him. It eased some of that awful fear that felt like it was clawing at my throat. I leaned my head back against the wooden railing with a quiet thunk and sighed. “I think our time in the army is drawing to a close.”

He smiled gently, eyes soft as he watched Ifrit and Talia. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

_______________________________________

The camp was remarkably quiet and calm when we rode up the trail and into the first rows of tents. A few of my soldiers smiled or saluted in greeting and I let out a breath of air I hadn’t realized I was holding in relief. It looked like Crissen hadn’t used my absence as an opportunity to rip through my support systems.

As soon as I slipped off of Mo’s saddle, Merric was hustling the horses away. I listened to his mutterings about improper stable oats at inns and clucking over the leaves tangled in their hair with a tired smile. The horses followed the stable master without needing a tug on their reins and I gave Mo a pat on the shoulder as he passed. 

Ifrit and Jace made a beeline for the mess hall and I watched Talia narrow in on one of the medical tent’s newest members relaxing nearby. The poor male blanched at the expression on her face and scurried away with her fast on his heels toward the field hospital.

“Thanks for guarding my virtue back there,” an amused voice said behind me, all whiskey and midnight thoughts and I didn’t have to turn to know Stryker had stayed behind with me, “I was worried Frey might take advantage of me while I was sleeping.”

“He tried,” I replied with a smile twitching at my lips, “but I managed to fend him off.”

“My hero,” he purred and I focused on hiding the shiver the dark promises hidden in his voice. The effect was muted by a jaw cracking yawn that reminded me that it had been days since we’d slept. “I’m heading back to my tent before my room mate gets a head start on the snoring.”

I laughed. “I didn’t know Jace snored that badly.”

Stryker rolled his eyes, grumbling at the thought, “Calling what he does ‘snoring’ is really too kind.” With one last smile at me, he started towards the tents.

My hand was moving before my mind could process the desire, catching the hem of his shirt in gentle fingers. He turned back to me, looking startled by the movement. My cheeks heated and I looked down, letting go of him before I embarrassed myself further. “I, um..” I fumbled with the words to explain what I wanted to ask, “You could stay in my tent...if you wanted.”

His eyes went dark, pupils dilating to swallow the green. He prowled closer to me, the heat of his body tempting me to step forward. “If I go to your tent, my lovely warrior, I cannot guarantee we would sleep.”

Licking suddenly dry lips, I watched his eyes drop to trace the curve of them when I whispered, “I never said we’d sleep.”

“Gods, woman,” Stryker groaned, dropping his head onto my shoulder and breathing deeply, “you are going to be the death of me.”

I smiled at that, feeling wild and reckless in a way that was unfamiliar outside of battle. “Unfortunately, I have to report to Trask first.”

He growled and the sound made goosebumps trail down my spine. “I should kill him for that alone.”

“Maybe later.”

“Fine,” Stryker murmured and pulled away to watch me with hooded eyes, “but there will be a later.”

Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving me feeling like my world was on a new axis. I watched him move with appreciation, enjoying the elegant grace of his movement. The power rippling beneath the surface that I knew could explode at a target with deadly force. 

Stryker glanced over his shoulder and winked at me, clearly listening in on my inner monologue. I considered looking embarrassed, but decided I didn’t have enough time so I just gave him a small salute and turned toward the main camp.

My good mood lasted until I stepped under the shade of the general’s tent, already dreading the conversation waiting for me. Unsurprisingly, I wasn’t wrong. 

Trask glowered at me from his desk, “Report, commander.”

I stepped forward to place our combined maps onto the table. “My scouts and I were able to find four places along the Wall where the magic is weakened enough where a crossing may be possible, though slow. Only one or two fae can cross at a time.” I gestured to two of the marked areas, “These two are the most useful. They’re far enough away from any Spring settlements that small units can move into the area without attracting any of the border patrols.”

He grunted, staring down at the map. “So your mission was a failure then. You weren’t able to find a way into the human world for our army.”

A disbelieving snort ripped free from my mouth, despite my efforts to avoid bringing Trask’s wrath down on my team. “I’m flattered that you were so confident in my skills that you believed sending me and four of my soldiers with barely a week’s notice into enemy territory was all you needed to destroy a piece of Cauldron-designed magic that spans Prythian’s entire border,” I bit out sharply and watched his face turn a mottled red, “We completed our mission as assigned and then some. We were able to move through the Wall to the Mortal Lands as successfully as we’ve done with every ridiculous task you set before us.” With each word, more of my temper sparked until I was barely below shouting.

Trask stood, one meaty hand reaching for me, and I widened my stance to prepare myself for the blow I wasn’t sure I would let slide this time. Perhaps this would be the day I finally ripped the general’s larynx free from his pompous throat.

A sharp female voice had us both jerking to a stop. “The general might not have a high estimation of your skills, but I’ll admit that I do.”

The female who stepped free of the made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up in alarm and my hand dropped to the largest of my blades within easy reach. Long, bright red hair was carefully pulled from her face in a complicated braid that was looped in a tight knot at the base of her neck and contrasted pleasantly with her pale skin. Though her eyes met mine in a pleasant enough expression, there was no life in them. She was as cold and cruel as the statues of the old gods that littered the ancient temple ruins.

Recognition flickered through me and I quickly stepped away from Trask to give her a hasty salute. “Forgive me, my lady, I did not see you there.”

Amarantha gave me a smile that made my hand twitch on the handle of my knife. “I noticed. I was very intrigued to hear that you were able to achieve such a thorough appraisal of the Wall in such a short time.”

The High Lady of Prythian was a legend in Hybern. Defying her king and the hatred left behind by the great war of our races, Amarantha had somehow claimed a holy site in the heart of Prythian as her own tiny kingdom. Claimed it and convinced the other High Lords to allow her to remain as a ‘changed fae.’ I had a hard time believing anyone capable of brutally torturing and killing for as long as she had was capable of beginning a new, peaceful life.

It helped that Frey had reported seeing more than a few extra soldiers on the ‘trade vessels’ she’d brought with her.

Still, until the king removed her title, Amarantha was a general for the king of Hybern and outranked me easily. Keeping my face impassive, I tilted my head in a polite bow. “You are welcome to see the maps yourself if you like.”

She took a step closer, barely glancing down at the piece of bloodied leather before she returned her attention to me. “I’ve been told you are an especially well regarded fighter in the Arena, Aria Bastardborn, Commander of the Damned Legion.”

The title still stung, even if it was true. So I smiled slightly, “I’ve had several occasions to hone my craft.”

She smiled and I felt nausea well in my gut. This was the female Stryker had risked everything to kill. The thought brought a fresh surge of panic.

What if she knew he was still alive? What if she knew I saved him? What else would she be doing here?

“They’ve served you well, clearly,” Amarantha replied easily, eyes sharp as a hawk regarding prey, “And earned you an odd assortment of soldiers to command.”

My chin tilted stubbornly in preparation for a familiar argument. “I choose all of my soldiers based on ability.”

“What ability could a human slave possibly give you?” Her tone indicated her belief that humans were worth little more than a good horse. Less than, even.

“Most recently, one of my human soldiers--” I refused to call Jace a slave, “--was able to test the limits of the Wall’s barrier magic to see if it affected all living creatures or just magic users.”

“And?”

“And he was able to pass through with only a small level of discomfort.” I glanced over at Trask who looked thoughtful, “It may be useful to test the tolerance of other humans to ensure there aren’t exceptions to the rule. I think we could use that to our advantage if the call for an invasion is made.”

“And the other members of your Core?”

I shifted, not liking how much she already knew about my inner circle. “Talia is a master poisoner and healer -- she was wasted in the field hospitals. My Illyrian is able to apply Night Court magic when necessary to slip past Prythian magics and is an excellent scout.”

“Interesting,” she said thoughtfully, then smiled again. I preferred the scowl -- it felt more genuine. “Your use of unexpected techniques and tools is exactly why I’ve sought you out today.”

That was...unexpected. Amarantha’s disdain for weaker beings was infamous. There was no way she would allow humans near her unless their blood was on her hands. I needed to keep the weaker members of my legion as far away from her as possible.

And Stryker… Gods, I needed to make him disappear and fast. Amarantha’s thirst for revenge was as legendary as her vicious personality.

“What do you want from me?” I managed to choke out before my inner panic was visible on my face.

“It would be best if I spoke with all of your Core at once,” she said dismissively, “I’m not fond of repeating myself.”

“Yes, I, uh --” Scrambling for an excuse that would give me time to warn the others, I finally blurted out, “I’ll gather them as quickly as possible and return here to speak with you at your leisure. Since we’ve just returned, they will be busy with their duties.”

Amarantha nodded and waved a dismissive hand, clearly finished speaking with me. I saluted to her and Trask as casually as I could and hurried from the tent, panic beating an unfamiliar tattoo in my chest.


	18. Chapter 18

Weaving through the maze of tents and supply carts, I tried to keep from flat out sprinting to my legion’s area. Barely. More than one familiar face attempted to slow my forward momentum but I only waved distractedly at them, driven forward with the fear that made me clamp down on my mental shields so Stryker wouldn’t know the monster that was lurking a few tents away.

The sight of my home was little comfort as I threw open the flap and found him sprawled across my simple bed. A wave of crippling relief swept through me at the sight of him -- safe, whole, and completely unaware of the danger he was in -- and I leaned heavily against the central post for a moment.

At my entrance he sat up and gave me a mischievous smile, “There you are. I was beginning to wonder if --”

Before he could finish the thought, I snatched up his travel stained pack and tossed it to him. “You have to go. Now.”

Stryker grunted as the bag hit his chest and frowned at me. “Go? We’ve only just got here.”

“It’s an order, spy,” I snapped, shoving what supplies I had handy into his pack. “You have one year left in our bargain before you can question me.”

“Why do you want me to leave so badly?”

The hurt and surprise in his voice made something inside me twist painfully, but I ignored it. He could be as pissed at me all he wanted, so long as he was alive to do it. I couldn’t protect him from Amarantha and I couldn’t be sure if he would refuse another opportunity at killing her. I couldn’t trust our fledgling bond to be enough to prevent him from another suicide run.

“I need you to go on a reconnaissance mission,” I lied, scrambling to come up with a valid excuse, “To the coast.” Yes, Frey could be convinced to take Stryker on for a few days until Amarantha left. My mind whirled with a million fractured plans to get him safely away before he realized what was truly at stake here.

“Aria, what --”

“I said go!” I snarled and he stared at me like he could barely recognize me.

“If this is about what we talked about earlier, you don’t have to go to such extremes. I would never force you to --” His voice was so concerned, so fragile that I felt a wild sort of sound rip free from my throat. 

I thought I would have more time before this new, wonderful gift was taken from me. Time to build this bargain into an actual relationship. I had no doubts that our loyalties would eventually create a rift or breaking point, but not now. Not when I’d just gotten a taste of the heat that lingered in those green eyes or the wild joy of his laughter.

So I forced myself to take a breath and grab his hand in an approximation of a soothing touch. “Crissen is planning something,” I said quickly, trying to come up with some excuse that wasn’t ‘maybe I was freaking out about having sex with you.’ “I think he’s bringing in soldiers from the coast.”

He threw his feet into the boots lying discarded by the bed and reached for his pack. “How did you find this out?”

“Uh, one of my other spies told me.”

One dark eyebrow rose. “You have other spies?”

“Of course,” I replied with a weak grin and a shove for him to get moving, “but you need to move fast.”

It was obvious that he wasn’t buying my weak attempts at lying, but he moved with me out to the bright light of midday. I could see the exhaustion that still hung around him like a cloud and I let the fresh guilt of what I was doing settle around my shoulders like a shroud. It was the price I would pay, again and again if need be, to keep him safe. 

Stryker hesitated on the path to Merric’s stable, curling one strong arm around my waist and pulling me into his side. His voice was like liquid honey dripping over my skin and I let my eyes flutter close when his thumb brush over my cheek. He tucked a strand of dark hair behind one delicately pointed ear with enough care that I felt goosebumps break out over my skin. 

“Will you miss me, Aria blade?” he purred and I had to make a concerted effort not to melt in the middle of my camp or toss him back on the bed just a few feet away.

Damn Amarantha to hell for ruining this.

“Every day,” I whispered and Stryker leaned back to stare at me in surprise at the sincerity in my voice.

“Well isn’t this cozy?” The familiar voice made us freeze and I watched the color drain from Stryker’s face. His eyes flicked behind me and the hands I’d placed against his chest to steady myself were suddenly the only thing keeping him from finishing what he’d started so long ago.

Amarantha ignored the death staring at her to address me with a mew of disappointment. “When I’d heard you’d recruited my would-be assassin, I assumed it was to torture any information Brannagh and Dagdan could find -- I had no idea you intended to train him as a pet,” she drawled. “I have to say I’m...disappointed.”

The vicious glee in her eyes told a different story and I felt Stryker’s chest heave in a furious breath and his muscles bunch in preparation for the violence that simmered in the air. Trask stood to her left with a smirk that left little doubt who had informed her of Stryker’s place in my legion. I doubted he’d waited long to offer up that morsel of information. Soldiers were beginning to edge closer, dropping the pretense of not eavesdropping on us.

Stryker don’t! I begged through our link, shouting along the bond in an attempt to make him hear it. Please. She’ll kill you!

And I wouldn’t be able to stop her.

For an instance, I thought it worked. Thought he’d be willing to put aside his desire for vengeance and trust that I would help him achieve it when we had more than a fool’s chance to succeed. Stryker looked at me and his expression softened minutely and I felt my breath catch.

Then his eyes slid back to Amarantha and I felt his magic surge.

Instinct had me throwing up the shield of stone solid air around his body, locking him in place, but regret had me leaning forward to rest my forehead against his chest for a moment. Rage and confusion warred with each other in his mind, raining down like fire on my mind and I was forced to close the mental link between us to avoid another slip in front of Amarantha or Trask.

“General, I didn’t expect you until this evening,” I said smoothly. Green eyes went wide with an understanding that made my heart twist and I had to turn away from him. Stryker fought my hold with his magic, struggling in minute twitches that made my head throb and exhaustion mount, but I kept my face placid. 

“I had to see for myself if the rumors of you hiding a failed assassin were true.” There was a hungry expression in her eyes that made me wonder how Amarantha had punished him for the attack. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, brushing against the hilt of my sword. I caught sight of Vaughn’s solemn face in the crowd and caught his eye quickly. He nodded, disappearing into the sea of faces.

“It is hardly a rumor or a secret. I won him in the Arena fair and square.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, moving for the first time away from my mate and focusing fully on me. Stryker made a strangled sound and I felt sweat drip down my back with the effort of keeping him contained. There was no doubt in mind that I’d only managed it because he hadn’t expected the attack, nor would I be able to hold him for long.

“Except you had no right,” she purred, “No right to halt the rightful punishment of a Prythian spy who attempted to murder one of the king’s generals.”

I noticed then the pale scar that bisected the creamy perfection of the skin of her cheek and realized just how close Stryker might have come to killing Hybern’s mightiest general. Realized just how much Amarantha would want to kill him for that.

I swallowed, trying to ignore the burn of my magic and the threats all around me. “He was in the Arena, I fought and won him. He has followed every instruction ever since,” I said quickly. “He’s still useful to us.”

“I’m not going to allow an enemy of the crown to continue to draw breath, just so you can have sex with him,” Amarantha said with a cruel laugh. Trask joined her and I tried not to look at the delight in his face especially with Stryker’s growl vibrating through his chest behind me. There was a flurry of motion to my right as Vaughn returned with Ifrit, Jace, and Talia hard on his heels, chests heaving and eyes hard on the fight that was brewing outside my tent. 

My shield wasn’t going to be enough to stop this. There was no way I could fight my way through two seasoned generals and whichever soldiers decided to fight for their cause. Too many variables. Too many casualties. The other option was just as horrifying: I could kill Stryker and claim temporary insanity.

The words came tumbling out of my throat before my mind could comprehend them. Settling into the air with a sense of rightness that made some of the ache in my chest ease and a heady rush flush my cheeks red.

“I claim him.”

The world seem to pause and Amarantha paused, surprise wiping away her desire for blood momentarily. Only Stryker seemed to miss the meaning of those three words, filling the silence with the sound of his labored breathing as he continued to try to break my hold on him. I shifted my weight from foot to foot, ready for the storm that was coming for me.

“What?” Amarantha hissed.

“I claim him.” The second time was easier and I felt the invisible link between us surge to life.

“You can’t just -- “ Trask began, but I cut him off quickly, keeping my eyes on the real threat here. Amarantha. “This is the most ancient of our laws. Even the king would not question a claiming.”

“This male is a war criminal,” Amarantha said with narrowed eyes, “you can’t possibly be serious.”

My chin tilted upwards in a silent dare, the crowd she’d gathered now a double edged sword. “If you want to challenge my claim, do so.”

She was silent for a beat, then she threw back her head and laughed. It was so unexpected that I blinked and Stryker’s arm moved forward, connecting with the back of my shirt and clutching at the material as though he was reaching for my neck. The shield snapped back into place with the a burst of power that threatened to make the world tilt dangerously. True delight gleamed in her eyes when she looked at me again and I locked my knees to keep from taking a step back into Stryker when she stepped towards us.

“Well then, Stryker dear,” she said with a look that brought a fresh struggle in the male behind me, “how do you feel about becoming Aria’s little pet? Brannagh and Dagdan miss you so…”

Here was where it could all fall apart. I met Ifrit’s eyes and saw her subtle rejection of the hidden behind mine. Get out of here. Now.

I suppose I couldn’t be surprised that none of my friends moved.

So I slowly turned around to face Stryker, trying not to flinch at the fury in his eyes. None of the teasing humor I’d associated with him now was present and I wondered if I would be the next target in his quest from revenge. 

Slowly I opened the bridge between us and whispered, Please. Please trust me.

Then I released my hold on him.

Stryker heaved a furious breath, jerking his arm away from me like it burned him. His eyes flicked back and forth between me and Amarantha. A few soldiers catcalled from the crowd but I kept my eyes fixed on him, praying to the gods I’d long abandoned for some kind of miracle that would end with all of us walking away unscathed.

Finally, his voice rumbled like broken glass over gravel. “I accept her claim.”

I released a slow, relieved breath, closing my eyes for a moment in gratitude amidst the gasps of surprise all around me. When I turned back, my face was the casually disrespectful expression of the Commander of the Damned Legion. “Well, there you have it,” I said smugly. “Are we done here?”

Amarantha stepped forward until her face was only inches from mine, breath cold against the sweat on my brow. “I’m not sure how you managed that,” she whispered, too low for even Stryker to pick up, “but I won’t let it stand unless you’re willing to do something in return.”

I forced myself to avoid looking at the rest of my Core, limiting the number of possible victims. Limiting the damage radius of the bomb I was about to set off.

“What could you possibly want from me?” 

She smiled, winking at Stryker looming behind me. “I don’t believe this mate bond nonsense for a minute, but I can pretend as well as any female. I can even forget certain things under the right circumstances. If you want that to happen as badly as the rest of your little Legion will, I suggest you do as I say.”

A new fury rose in me at that, making it difficult to maintain my calm expression. “Leave them out of this.”

“I’ll expect you in my tent in the morning,” Amarantha replied smoothly and gave Stryker another grin, “Enjoy your honeymoon.”

The general walked away with the studied nonchalance of someone who didn’t consider anyone here to be a threat. Her mistake. There was very little I’d like to do now than rip the spine free from her still-breathing body. After a glare at me, Trask followed after her.

“Show’s over,” I snapped at the rest of the soldiers, “Find somewhere else to be.”

They milled away with a few unhappy noises and glares tossed my way if they were feeling brave enough. All but the usual three. I waited a beat before I finally turned to face the seething male that I’d just claimed as my mate in front of all of the camp.

Stryker’s anger was a white hot flame in my mind, burning with an intensity that only one word could properly describe it. Wrath. He didn’t scream. Didn’t curse or yell or threaten. In some ways I’d relish some kind of display of all that internal fury and anguish on his too-still face. Instead he turned on his heel and walked away. 

Ifrit is moving after him before I can do more than take a step forward, hand outstretched then falling to hang limply at my side. That quickly the tidal wave of emotions cut off with an abruptness that left me alone in my head once more.


	19. Chapter 19

“Lovely” by Billie Eilish (feat Khalid) --If you want to get feels in the first part of this chapter, I listened to this song on repeat to get in the zone. 

“Open your eyes,” Son of a Bad Man --This song might as well have been written for Aria. I love it.  
_____________________________________

People were whispering now, watching the exchange with a mixture of cruel delight and confused curiosity. Jace and Talia stepped closer, flanking me and trying to shield the devastation on my face and the eager anticipation on the others’. It took all of my strength to force myself to focus. To build on the lessons my mother had driven into me so long ago. 

 

‘Focus, my little stormwind,’ she’d whisper, ‘focus on one task at a time and move forward.’

 

Focus. 

 

Focus on this moment, not the pain.

 

One foot in front of the other meant slowly making my way back to the safety of my tent, but one whiff of the jasmine and night scent had me changing directions. I needed quiet. Quiet meant away from camp. 

 

Jace was speaking to me. Reaching out like he would draw me in for a hug, but I stepped away quickly. I felt like I would crumble into pieces if I allowed myself to stop moving with the frantic energy under my skin.

 

Focus.

 

I needed focus right now, not sympathy. The numbness would fade and I didn’t want to be around anyone when the inevitable drop came. So I kept moving, trusting my body to move me to somewhere safe while my mind was trapped in an endless loop of the look on Stryker’s face. I’m not sure when I started running, but it was a relief to feel the familiar burn and become just another body instead of a tangle mess of lies.

 

This was something he would never forgive. Maybe if I’d had time to explain I would have been able to avoid using my powers in such a way, but I doubted it. He was too focused on his revenge to see that the path only led to his death at the hands of Amarantha. 

 

And I’d been too selfish to let him do it.

 

When had I stopped considering Stryker an outsider and started wanting him to stay?

 

My feet stumbled over an unseen rock and I heard Talia make a soft, distressed sound. In just a few short minutes, I had completely ruined my chances of attaining the glimmer of happiness I’d witnessed in Spring. Even though I’d trained all my life to destroy, it was the first time I truly regretted how easy it was to do so.

 

Somehow I had never craved the mate bond that left so many of my kind with stars in their eyes. I didn’t need another life to weigh so heavily on my shoulders when I was already drowning under the weight of my Legion and all those I wanted to save. I’d been content with the knowledge that I likely wouldn’t survive the Arena games forever so long as it kept them safe. My life was just a ticking countdown to the moment where I was just a little too slow or a little too outmatched to finish the day. It was worth the pain to see them freed.

 

Stryker had changed all of that.

 

Now I wanted more. Craved more than just an endless line of battles and waiting for the moment when my luck would run out. For the first time, my future had tiny pinpricks of light and happiness that went beyond what I felt for my Core, glittering like stars in the nights. I wanted to cling to the first glimmers of a life that meant more than the blood I’d shed. Images of days spent lazing around, teasing and laughing instead of training and bleeding; of nights spent learning each curve and line of his body, falling asleep with the knowledge that I was safe. Cherished.

 

Loved.

 

The ground beneath me gave way to the crash of the ocean far below and I forced myself to stop. A salty wind toyed at my hair, chasing away the moisture on my cheeks, and I took a shaky breath. For the first time I let myself acknowledge the burn of my muscle and the thundering of my heart in my ears from the unexpected sprint to the coastline. Talia and Jace were hovering within arms reach, muscles clenched like they expected me to jump.

 

Maybe I should, I thought with a fleeting sense of morose despair, but shoved it away just as quickly. This was hardly my first heartbreak -- just the first to leave me breathless and off balance. 

 

Instead I sat, letting my legs dangle over the edge and watched the wheeling birds below. They soared and called to each other in a familiar lullaby, completely ignoring our appearance. After a moment where I could practically hear my friends’ silent exchange, they sat on either side of me, close enough that their shoulders brushed mine like they could anchor me to the earth. 

 

“When are you going to stop keeping secrets you silly woman?” Jace asked without heat and wrapped an arm around my shoulder with a gentle squeeze. 

 

“I’m not a woman, I’m a fae.” My voice was dull even to my ears. 

 

“I forgot you fae thrive on secrets.”

 

I sighed, feeling miserable and embarrassed. “I didn’t want to say anything until it was certain. We...we were going to just see if we were compatible.”

 

Talia snorted, still a little breathless from the run. “It looks like you both have the same sacrificial tendencies.” Jace glared at her and she shrugged, “What? It’s true! Even before we found out you were mates, it was obvious that you wanted each other, but didn’t want to risk endangering your cause. I just thought you needed to get laid.”

 

Jace made a choking sound and I felt a rusty laugh bubble up in my throat. It sapped at what was left of my energy until I leaned forward to cradle my head in my hands with a heavy sigh. “By the Mother, I hate her,” I whispered fervently. Jace patted my back in silent agreement. 

 

Talia grunted, “I think we’ll all be glad the day Amarantha draws her last breath...even the king.”

 

“She wants me to help her with something. In return for her ‘cooperation.’”

 

Jace frowned at me and glanced back at Talia before murmuring, “Maybe it’s finally time for us to disappear.”

 

“You know I can’t do that yet,” I muttered into my hands, “I haven’t smuggled enough of you away yet and Trask will take great pleasure murdering anyone in the Legion he finds. I need to make it through a few more challenges before we can all leave.” It took two breaths before I could force myself to continue, “If you want to--”

 

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence,” Jace snapped with a rare burst of temper. “We are not leaving you to face them alone.”

 

My throat went tight so I looked back at the waves below us.

 

“Trask is going to throw everything he can at you now,” Talia growled and I wasn’t sure if her anger was directed at me or the general, “and don’t think I haven’t seen you eyeing Crissen for your next hit.”

 

Glancing back at her with a hint of a smile, I shrugged. “You don’t think I could take him?”

 

“Don’t pretend like he won’t find some way to tip the scales in his favor. He won’t risk his position for anything less than a sure thing.” 

 

My humor faded as quickly as it appeared and I looked away from Talia’s irritated expression. “You know what to do if that happens,” I said gently, “Stryker may be able to find a safe place for you in Prythian and I’ve kept each of you away from any of the skirmishes there so the High Lords should overlook your presence if you keep your head down.”

 

I could feel the weight of her gaze on me now, but I refused to look at her. My fingers toyed with a fraying edge of my uniform for a long moment and Talia gave a vicious curse. “You don’t think you’ll win against him.”

 

“It’s always good to be prepared,” I replied, trying for levity. With a sigh, I finally looked over at my oldest friend and smiled at her, “Rest assured I won’t let them take me out without taking all of them with me, but none of it matters if you don’t follow the plan.”

Then it was Jace’s turn to protest, “Aria, you can’t expect--”

 

“I am your commander--” The words were fierce and they flinched at the unexpected vehemence so I forced myself to gentle my tone, “--and your friend. This is what we’ve been planning for for all these years and we aren’t going to stop now just because there’s more risk. If I go down...you can’t waste the opportunity.”

 

Talia cursed again, shoving to her feet furiously and stalking back in the direction of camp. Jace stared after her for a long moment before scrubbing his hand over his face.

 

“You planning on stomping off now too?” I asked quietly when he didn’t move from his seat beside me.

 

He sighed, “You know we won’t let you die alone.”

 

Stars flickered into sight above us and I had to glance away when the sight of the encroaching night sky made my chest ache. The light of the sun gleamed like molten gold on the sea and I stared at it until it erased the memory of the betrayal in Stryker’s eyes. A new kind of regret settled deep into my bones like a tattoo and I sighed again.

 

“I know.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------

 

The walk back to camp later that night was a somber one despite Jace’s steadfast company. There was no sign of Ifrit or Talia waiting for us and I knew better than to expect Stryker’s familiar form outside my tent. The time for teasing flirtations was long past and now I just wanted to sink into the oblivion of sleep to avoid thinking about my meeting with Amarantha tomorrow. 

 

Jace paused at the junction where he would typically turn for his own tent. “You sure you’re alright?” he asked quietly.

 

“I’m fine,” I promised.

 

Neither of us really believed it, but Jace was polite enough to pretend. “I’ll tell you if he...if he doesn’t come back tonight.” His arm shot out to catch the sleeve of my shirt when I went to turn away and I blinked at him. He fumbled for his words before he finally said, “You should talk to him, Aria -- and be honest this time. You deserve to be happy too.”

 

My throat went tight and I managed a nod before turning in the direction of my bed. I needed to at least let my body go still for a few hours if I was going to manage Amarantha’s games tomorrow. I knew better than to think I’d really sleep with all the thoughts clustered in my head, filling the empty space where Stryker used to linger, but maybe it would be enough.

 

I nodded to the guards still on patrol nearby and slipped into the small space that served as my home. It was dark and cold against the night’s chill and I fumbled for the oil lamp I kept near my desk, weary muscles struggling for the grace I normally possessed. It had been far too long since I’d last slept in a bed--or slept at all, for that matter. Light flared, blinding me for a moment when I finally pulled at my magic to coax the match’s flame to take.

 

A shadow moved in my periphery and I felt the familiar weight of my dagger in my palm an instance before I flung it into the tent wall an inch from where Stryker was still standing. My chest sucked in a ragged breath as I struggled to keep my adrenaline under control. He watched me with a flat, expressionless look, not bothering to move from where he leaned against one of the tent’s support column even to dodge my attack.

 

We watched each other for a long moment before I dropped into the chair close to the cold brazier and reached for the small pile of tinder and wood. The silence was heavy as I tossed a couple logs into the small metal frame and stuffed some tinder into the space between. It wasn’t so cold that the fire was absolutely necessary, but it gave me something to do with my fidgeting hands. I could feel his eyes like a brand on the back of my neck and I took another moment to regret the trouble I’d caused this afternoon. When I had a fire crackling cheerfully in the grate and couldn’t think of another way to keep busy while Stryker stared at me, I finally turned to look at him. 

 

“If you’re here to kill me, you could have at least done it quickly,” I muttered.

 

A muscle fluttered on his jaw. “I’m not here to kill you.”

 

I tilted my head curiously, eyeing the way his hands ghosted over the sword on his belt. “So what are you here for?” The question hurt, but I wasn’t about to pretend he was here to finish what we’d started in Spring. So I followed my training and went on the attack. “If you want me to apologize for this afternoon, I won’t.”

 

Stryker’s lips twisted into a mocking smile. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t do that.”

 

Silence fell and I floundered for the words that would ease the hurt that still lingered in his eyes. 

 

His eyes flicked over my tortured expression without remorse and I tried not to flinch when he pushed off the wall to stand in front of me, leaning forward to brace himself against the arms of my chair and forcing me to look up at him. “Would you have told me she was in camp or were you planning to hide that from me?”

 

I closed my eyes for a moment and took a breath before I spoke, “No. I wouldn’t have told you.”

 

Fingers curved under my chin to tilt it upward and meet his frown. “Why?” His tone was implacable but there was something fragile in his eyes. 

 

Oddly, my first thoughts were of Jace and the quiet way he’d watched me tonight. You deserve to be happy. 

 

So I gave Stryker the truth. 

 

“She would have killed you-“ Stryker scowled and started to draw back but my fingers tangled in the fabric of his sleeves and I forced myself to continue, “and I wasn’t ready to lose you yet.”

 

He froze, shock and disbelief warring with a million other tiny emotions in his eyes. It took the last of dying courage to slowly lower the shields I’d placed between us and let him see the truth. Let him feel the twisting pain that still made my breath catch and the blinding need to reach up and smooth the frown lines bracketing his eyes. In an act that would be suicidal in any other instance, I opened my mind fully to the daemati in front of me.

 

“You—,” his voice faltered and he looked off balanced and so stunned that I looked down at my twisting hands, “If there had been another way to save you, I would have done it.”

 

Stryker went still and I could feel him filling my mind, carding through my memories of the day like an open book. When he went further, I gently pushed him away from the memories of my time before the army. I knew there was plenty of information that could help his cause and I doubted he would ignore this opportunity to learn more. Surprisingly he withdrew, leaving me to my thoughts so he could lean back and consider me. 

 

“Why didn’t you trust me with the truth?” His voice still held a bite of frustration, but it was a shadow compared to the storm that first greeted me. 

 

I shrugged, feeling miserable. “I didn’t think you would trust me enough to put aside your revenge.”

 

“So you took away my choice.”

 

The cold fury in his words made me want to look down but I’d promised myself that I would give him the truth. “Yes. That is the only thing I regret.”

 

He snorted, pacing away from me in a burst of barely contained frustration. “How am I supposed to move past this?”

 

“I didn’t expect you to.”

 

“There are easier ways to tell me you don’t want this relationship to happen. I don’t need you to lie and ‘claim’ me so you can pretend you’re protecting me.”

 

A hot flush crawled up my neck and I felt my own temper flare. “I wasn’t lying,” I growled. 

 

Stryker stopped, looking surprised. “Ifrit said…”

 

When he didn’t continue, I stood and crossed my arms over my chest to glare at him. “What did Ifrit tell you?” I pressed. 

 

“She said that that’s how they confirm a mate bond in Prythian.”

 

“She’s not wrong,” I said blithely. 

 

“So you just saw an opportunity to keep from losing a useful member of your Legion and knew they couldn’t contest the protection of a mate?”

 

“You aren’t just another member of my Legion.”

 

“No, I’m your spy and you haven’t gotten your year of service from me!” he accused. 

 

“You are not just another one of my soldiers.” The words tumbled out on a snarl that surprised us both. “And I don’t give a damn about our bargain.”

 

Abruptly, I felt all the anger that had kept me on my feet and strong against his accusations and fury drain away until it was an effort to remain on my feet. I shoved a hand through my hair and turned away from him to pour a glass of wine from the bottle still sitting on the table. “If you think that the only thing that matters anymore is your ability to destroy Amarantha, then you might as well walk back to Prythian tonight. I won’t stop you from making your own decisions anymore.”

 

When nothing but silence answered me, I tilted my head back and finished the glass to avoid having to turn around and face the empty tent. I leaned heavily against the table and sighed -- this had to be some kind of record for running off your mate. Maybe if I got drunk enough I could forget about him until--

 

My thoughts derailed when a hand landed on my shoulder and spun me into a hard chest. Blinking in surprise, I gasped when Stryker’s hands raised to cup my face and pull me into a kiss. He swallowed my noise of surprise and kissed me with an emotion that made me dizzy, breathless. My hands clutched at his shirt, trying to close the nonexistent distance between us.

 

Stryker kept the kids gentle, chaste until I felt all of the tension bracketing my body ease. Slowly, he pulled away to press his forehead against mine and took a deep breath. “I won’t leave.”

 

The words felt like smoke. Something unattainable and so fragile that I was afraid to stretch out and touch then. 

 

But it was a start. 

 

After a moment, I rested my head in the juncture of his neck and shoulder and sighed contentedly. His hands shifted to my neck, kneading away the knots left behind by days of traveling in and out of Prythian and I groaned in pleasure. 

 

He smiled against my hair. “You should get some sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

 

When he moved away I cleared my throat hesitantly, blushing when he looked back at me. “You said you would stay…”

 

His eyes widened a fraction in surprise and I barreled forward before I lost my nerve, “I mean, if you want to avoid Jace’s snoring, my bed is big enough for two.” Stryker’s wicked grin had me flushing with heat and I scowled at him in mock annoyance, “Make your choice quickly, I’ll be asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.”

 

He looked like he was contemplating testing that statement but some of my exhaustion must have shown in my face because he nodded. “Such hospitality…” he drawled. 

 

I laughed and tugged the laces of my breeches, leaving me in the soft cotton shorts beneath. My vambraces and jerkin went into the growing pile next until I was standing in the thin cotton shorts and camisole I wore to bed. Normally I wouldn’t risk sleeping without light armor, but the meeting with Amarantha tomorrow basically guaranteed I’d survive the night.

 

I’d long since lost any sense of embarrassment about changing in front of others after years of campaigns, but I couldn’t help but wonder what Stryker thought of the layers of muscles and scattered scars left by years of Arena skirmishes. My skin prickled with the weight of his stare and I thought I heard a muttered curse before I padded over to the bed and pulled back the blankets to avoid the chilly night air. 

 

There was a rustle of cloth behind my and I turned to watch the smooth expanse of Stryker’s chest reveal itself in the firelight. My mouth went a little dry and I fisted my hands in the sheet to keep from reaching for him. His fingers hesitated at the waist of his pants and I looked up in time to see the wicked grin on his face. 

 

“See something you like, mate?” he purred. 

 

He sounded so damned smug that I threw a pillow at him and smirked when it hit him in the face. 

 

Stryker growled, pouncing on me in a quick movement that left me sprawling on my back and laughing up at him. His fingers teased my sides until I squirmed and twisted beneath him. “What’s this?” He asked with a playfully shocked expression, “The great Commander of the Damned Legion is ticklish?”

 

I gasped a protest and twisted my legs in a complicated move that reversed our positions so quickly Stryker could only blink in surprise. Then it was my turn to look smug. 

 

“Better get some sleep so you have an actual shot at winning against me tomorrow, spy.”

 

Stryker stared up at me with a smile that slowly turned soft, “I don’t know...if this is what losing feels like, I don’t think I mind.”

 

My lungs went sideways and I leaned forward slowly to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Flirt,” I accused without heat. 

 

“Just honest.”

 

I huffed out a laugh and slid to the side so we were laying side by side. After a moment of comfortable silence, I said, “Get some sleep, tomorrow will be a long day.”

 

“Yes ma’am.”

 

I fell asleep with a smile still on my face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all....I love these two so much. They always make me smile. They aren't as romantic as Rhone and Kali, but their slowly building relationship makes my heart happy. If only they knew what I had planned next.... ;)


	20. Chapter 20

Three hours later and I _still_ wasn’t sure how I was going to survive this day.

A tension headache dedicated to the group of infuriating fae (and one human) that I’d chosen to drive me slowly insane was throbbing against the inside of my skull. It was my own damn fault for thinking that finding fighters who were brave and loyal to my unit would have a morsel of self preservation as well. I’d argued until I was blue in the face and shaking with the need to force each of them to stay safely hidden in the camp where Amarantha _might_ forget about them.

Instead, I was stalking into the heart of Trask’s camp with the two members of my team who were deemed least likely to be killed within the first five minutes of this meeting. A meeting with a psychopath who already had one reason to want me dead.

Talia was a silent presence to my left, eyes flicking to the soldiers we passed with barely concealed disdain. She avoided going into the main camp whenever possible. Instead, she ruled over her tightly regimented healer’s tents safely within my legions’ campgrounds like a tiny, irritable dictator. 

Unfortunately, Talia was also the only pure blooded fae I had in my inner circle and was more than capable of watching my back if need be. Soldiers always forgot that healers were just as capable of destroying as they were fixing. Talia was a good choice for the coming encounter.

The fae to my right however...

Stryker must have picked up a few of my more annoyed thoughts because I caught a soft snort of laughter somewhere behind me. My scowl deepened enough that a fresh faced looking foot soldier abruptly reversed course in front of us and scurried out of sight despite the laughter of his peers. Warm amusement brushed against my mental shields like the first rays of dawn or the brush of a cool breeze on a hot day.

 _This is a bad idea,_ I thought pointedly at him.

Stryker’s chuckle was practically indecent through the intimate mental link. _If I remember correctly, the last ‘bad idea’ I had went off without a hitch. Have a little faith._

 _Experience is worth more than faith._

Despite my mood and _completely_ indicative of my current run of bad luck with authority, our path found us standing outside the newly erected cluster of tents bearing Amarantha’s sigil within a few minutes. Crissen and a few of his cronies lurked at the outskirts of the small city and I blew him a kiss with a mocking salute when we walked passed by. He spat and muttered something under his breath, but didn’t retaliate beyond a few glares. 

No doubt he was aware that Amarantha might just end our feud permanently today.

A trio of stony faced guards waved us through the first row and I led our small group towards the largest tent. I paused outside and lowered my voice so that only Talia and Stryker could hear me, “Remember the deal--do _not_ speak or move unless I tell you to.” I leveled a flat stare at Stryker, who looked somber, “She’ll be looking for any excuse to have us publicly executed and I will not give her that chance easily. Stay quiet. Stay passive. Stay _alive_.”

I waited for each of them to give me a grudging nod before stepping into the sheltered entrance of Amarantha’s tent. 

Almost immediately, I was grateful for my decision to leave Jace safely behind with Ifrit. Jace was hardly violent without cause, but even his gentle temperament wouldn’t last against the sight of the human slaves chained hand and foot to the support beams with nothing to protect themselves against the cool morning air but the rough metal. They stared at the ground with eyes so dead that only the faint rise and fall of their chests gave away the fragile hearts still beating in their chests.

Talia sucked in a ragged breath and I knew without looking that Stryker was equally horrified--perhaps more so after his time in the Arena pits. I knew enough about Amarantha to suspect that she’d placed the emaciated humans in the doorway to try to tease out a reaction from us, to keep us off balance in her domain. It was a gut wrenching example of how little power I held here.

I was proud of how steady my voice was when I flicked my eyes to the only other fae in the room, every inch of my body and microexpression on my face a mask of cocky attitude and lazy disinterest, “Tell your mistress I’m here to speak with her.”

The demi fae bowed a head full of dark, messy curls and two curving ram’s horns in my direction and scurried away behind the intricate curtain that separated the entrance from the rest of her tent to deliver the message. 

While we waited, I took my time studying the rich tapestries on the wall and the intricate design of the plush rug under my feet. It was such a blatant display of stolen and captured wealth against the open disdain for the three human slaves shivering at the edges of such treasures that my hands twitched with the need to wrap them in one of the blankets stacked nearby. 

I hoped the mud from our boots stained her stupid rug.

The curtain shifted again to reveal the same demi fae who gestured us forward without a sound. I prowled forward with a final warning glance back at my two shadows and was rewarded with two stoic faces looking back at me steadily. Matching expressions of determination and calculated disinterest made my heart swell with pride and relief. 

Inside the main chamber of the military tent was similar to the gaudy nature of Trask’s command center, but with more feminine touches. Gleaming weapons polished to a dull shine hung beside priceless artwork and delicate wood inlays. Several glass lanterns hung around the space to make up for lack of natural light and sent shadows skittering around the room like hidden nightmares. Thick carpet made our approach nearly soundless and covered the trampled grass and dirt left behind by too many soldiers in too little space.

No amount of wealth or art would be enough to disguise the death that lingered like a sickness in the air. Amarantha filled her quarters with trophies of her victims as openly as a hunter would mount favored prey. I worried that if I looked to closely, I would see the ghosts lurking behind each pretty bauble and shiny trinket.

At our approach, Amarantha looked up from a report and smiled politely, “Commander, I wondered if you would come.”

“I didn’t think it was optional.”

“It was not,” she said easily and set aside the paper to level her full attention on us, “but some people attempt to avoid the inevitable anyway. I see you brought friends?”

I nodded and gestured to my silent shadows behind me, “This is Talia, my chief healer, and you remember my mate.”

Amarantha’s lips twisted into a snarl as she looked back at Stryker, “How could I forget?”

He remained stubbornly silent and I felt a wash of relief when he didn’t rise to her baiting. She snagged a cup sitting at the edge of her desk and filled it with a dark red wine without bothering to offer us any.

Amused, she shifted her attention to Talia and I focused on keeping my expression neutral and hands still at my side. “So you’re the healer I’ve heard so much about?”

Talia’s chin tilted in silent defiance. “That depends on what you’ve heard.”

The general chuckled like Talia had told her a joke and played her fingers over the rim of her wine goblet, eyes sharp and deadly. “They tell me you have a talent for spellcraft and poisons,” she said, “and that your last commander died under mysterious circumstances.”

“People die in the army all the time. It’s why I have a job.”

“Indeed,” Amarantha purred, “but I’d like to see your skills in action.”

Talia held a hand out for the goblet Amarantha still held with enough mischief in her eyes that I felt my stomach tangle in knots. “Hand me your drink and we can begin.”

“How powerful are the spells you cast into liquid?” Amarantha asked as she passed the wine over. She looked as comfortable discussing spellcraft as others might discuss their favorite book or music. “Can you use other mediums?”

“Wine and other spirits work best for this sort of thing,” Talia muttered, eyes on the cup in front of her. “Food can’t maintain its shape under the weight of the magic so it’ll be noticeable to whoever you want to eat it. Most people won’t notice if their drink is a few shades off.”

“And the size of the spell?”

“Doesn’t matter. If I fix the spell to the liquid, it will hold whatever magic I pour into it.”

“So the only limit is your own power?” Amarantha mused, looking intrigued.

Talia nodded and hesitated over the liquid for the first time. “What sort of spell do you want?”

“Whatever you think will leave an impression,” the general said with another smile that made me want to grit my teeth.

Talia either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the way the other female was watching her, just set the cup onto a nearby table and began to whisper over it. Magic rose like a heady cloud in the room and I breathed in the familiar scent of cinnamon and belladonna that I associated with my friend. She continued to speak, words flowing steadily with purpose and power until the magic seemed to reach a crescendo. A final, soft word and it disappeared with a suddenness that made me suck in a surprised breath.

It was one the few times I’d had the chance to see Talia work and I was surprised by how powerful the little female truly was. Most of the time, I was on the receiving end of Talia’s gifts and I brushed my hand against her arm in a silent gesture of approval.

“Is that all it takes?” Amarantha asked.

“That’s it,” Talia said with a dismissive gesture, “It should last a week or so, depending on how complicated the spell is.”

“So what kind of spell did you put in this liquid?”

 

A quick smirk. “Something to heal minor injuries--I am a healer after all.”

Amarantha eyed the glass, looking pleased. Carefully, she placed the spelled wine on a nearby table and returned her attention to me. I focused on looking as bored as possible and keeping my body carefully between her and Stryker. “Excellent. I have need of you and the rest of your...team’s -” Her lip curled as though she tasted something foul at the reminder of what the rest of my team was made of. “-skills in Prythian.”

“Wh--” I cut off the first line of thought at the warning flash of temper in her expression, “How will we be assisting you?”

The general walked over to the intricate map of Prythian on display on the wall nearby. Her fingers traced over the boundary that bisected the mortal and immortal lands with barely hidden greed. Her eyes flicked back to the male standing silently behind me with a cruel smirk.

“I intend to finish what our king started.”

Stryker shifted minutely behind me and I felt my hands tighten into fists at the brief flash of angry panic shooting through our link. “I thought you had a treaty with the High Lords?” I said in my best approximation of neutral interest.

Amarantha’s smile made my stomach twist around my simple breakfast. “Treaties are made to be broken,” she purred, “and I am not someone weak enough to be entertained by peace.”

The shadow of war lingered like madness in the shadows darkening her face.

Suddenly, I wished I’d stayed in bed with Stryker for a few more hours instead of hurrying to this meeting. The time we’d stolen to nurture our fragile bond was already running out and I knew it wouldn’t be long before we were forced to choose sides. The problem was, I already knew who he would choose.

“And how would my legion help with your efforts, General?” 

“I don’t care about your pathetic excuse for a legion, Commander,” Amarantha said, narrowing her eyes at me, “Bring your strongest warriors in your inner circle and your healer to my palace. Trask has already signed over control of your soldiers to me...I don’t think I need to remind you of what will happen should you disappoint me.”

A line of cold dread dripped down my back and I hid my shaking hands behind my back. “When do you want us there?”

“Tonight. Kill anyone who sees your team as you make your way over--no one in Prythian can be allowed to witness soldiers of Hybern going to Under the Mountain.”

“Yes, General.” My salute felt sloppy and weak, but I couldn’t muster up the energy to care in the face of the bloodshed waiting for us.

That invisible, constant reminder of how little time I had left before my mate would be forced to choose where his allegiance lay edged closer.

This confrontation was too easy. It was too much to hope that Amarantha had forgotten the drama of the day before with her failed assassin standing just behind me. Even so, I wasn’t going to question the opportunity to leave without blood being spilled.

Stryker and Talia’s eyes were wide and panicked as they fell into step beside me once more. It felt like the walls of the tent were closing in around us and I fixed my eyes on the tiny line of daylight ahead of us behind the thick tapestry like a lifeline. My hand closed around the thick fabric a moment before Amarantha’s voice cut through the tense silence, “Wait.”

My eyes moved to Stryker instinctively, wondering if this would be the moment when Amarantha got her revenge. He looked strangely confident and I clutched at our mental bond like I could drew some of his calm into my racing heart.

Slowly, I pivoted on one heel and arched an eyebrow at the red head now leaning against the dark wood of her desk. “Yes?”

“I almost forgot,” she said and lifted the cup of wine in her hand, “I wouldn’t want your healer’s work to go untested.”

Talia went stiff with dawning horror beside me and it was all I needed to know that there would be little healing happening today. Stryker’s fingers brushed against the skin of my arm like he was trying to hold me back, but I forced myself to move closer. Amarantha’s smile grew wolfish and she held out the glass expectantly, “I hope you don’t mind trying it for me--I’m not very thirsty.”

 _Don’t,_ Stryker’s voice was rough in my head and I flinched at the sudden intrusion. _You know that isn’t a healing potion._

_None of us are getting out of here unless I drink it._

_She just wants to punish you. You embarrassed her in front of the camp yesterday--Amarantha will never let that stand without you paying the price in blood._

The desperation in his voice, doubled by the link, oddly steadied me and I took another step towards Amarantha. Mentally, I focused on ensuring Talia and Stryker wouldn’t do anything stupid the moment the wine touched my lips. I could handle whatever nasty surprise was hiding in the innocuous liquid if it meant keeping them safe. Pain and I were old friends.

 _Whatever happens, don’t react. She’s just looking for an excuse to kill you while you’re protected by the mate bond. If you attack her, she can legally rip you to pieces and I won’t be able to stop her._ The metal of the cup felt strangely warm in my palm and I took a deep breath before silently toasting the general in front of me. _Keep Talia quiet and still no matter what happens, I ordered before upending the chalice into my mouth._

The sharp tang of the wine felt heady with promise in my mouth. I didn’t bother to savor the expensive vintage, just swallowed it with all the same enthusiasm I reserved for the watered down mead they severed in the mess hall. Amarantha’s eyes gleamed and focused on the flex of my throat as I swallowed.

For a moment, nothing happened aside from the usual curl of heat left behind by strong wine. Talia let out a relieved breath and some of the tension in the room eased. A shocked smile twitched at my lips at the thought that maybe it was just some sort of bluff, maybe Amarantha wanted me to know how little control I had.

Then the pain hit.

 

The wine sank into my stomach like warm sunlight that dissolved into a burning acid that licked through my veins like razors. Amarantha’s cruel smile had been enough to warn me that she had something awful planned for me, but the first jolt of liquid fire seemed to suck the air out of my lungs and replaced it with twisting agony. My breath rushed out in a hoarse wheeze and I felt the muscles in my legs spasm and tremble painfully.

Talia’s hand wrapped around my bicep, instinctively moving to support my weight as her magic wreaked havoc on me. My stomach heaved and I retched helplessly, trying to expel the liquid before it did more damage but it only seemed to settle deeper in my bones. I tried to focus up at her, to reassure her that it wasn’t her fault, but another wave of agony rushed forward and I felt my knees hit the ground with a dull thud.

Through the roar of blood in my ears, I could hear Talia’s voice--sharp and furious--above me. “Enough! You’ve made your point!”

“Have I, healer?” Amarantha mused, “It’s obvious that you and your commander need to be reminded that I do not tolerate disloyalty among my soldiers. Did you think you could poison me so easily and get away with it?”

“It’s not a poison, I swear,” Talia said quickly, “Even if it was, it should be me who is punished--not Aria!”

“Your commander has allowed dissent and disorder to brew for too long under her leadership. She’s becoming a liability.”

“She is a loyal soldier of Hybern!” Stryker’s voice was jarring enough that I flinched miserably and I felt Talia’s hand tighten around my arm. I wanted to yell at him to be quiet, to get out of here before she turned her venom towards him but my tongue felt numb and swollen in my mouth. My wheezing breaths sounded loud in the well-insulated tent.

Amarantha’s smile was sharp as a razor’s edge. “And what do you know of loyalty, spy?”

“I am bound to her service as her mate and as her soldier,” he spat, “If she dies, all the information I have on Prythian goes with her.”

Time went strange and nonlinear then. 

One moment my eyes were staring down at the intricate weave of Amarantha’s rug and contemplating vomiting all over it, and the next I was staring up at the bright sunlight of midday.

Frantic voices surrounded me, but all I could focus on was the steady beat thrumming through the warm muscle beneath my cheek. Heartbeat, my mind sluggishly supplied before another spasm chased away the short lucidity. My back arched, muscles going taunt and static. A dull roar filled my mind, echoing off the bones of my skull to lock my jaw and chase the air from my lungs. 

“She’s seizing!” Someone shouted as if from a great distance.

The comforting sensation of whoever was holding me was replaced by the hard surface of the earth and I felt strong hands wrap around my arms and legs to restrain them. It felt like my mind was slipping free from whatever invisible bonds kept me bound to my mortal shape. The thought was enough to send a new bolt of panic through me and I bucked hard, trying to hold onto to the fragile connection.

 _I don’t want to die,_ I thought desperately, _don’t let me die._

There was a harsh sound of agony above me, but I couldn’t focus. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t--

I blinked, vision swimming and distorting oddly enough that I closed them again in an attempt to resist the urge to vomit again. The vicious heat from the initial wave of the poison was slowly turning to ice and I shivered like I was trapped in some snow drift. I curled into a tiny, miserable ball of helpless pain. 

When I opened my eyes again, Stryker’s green eyes seemed to fill my vision. Night scented wind brushed against the walls my mind instinctively created to protect against this new attack. Some deep instinct to keep the most Battle roughened fingers cupped my cheek in a strangely tender contrast to the anguish in his expression, “Let me in, Aria.”

My teeth started to chatter and I shivered again. I shook my head, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. “T-too much...hurt you.”

I was so tired.

“I know, love,” he whispered gently, “just let me help. I can make it go away.”

 

I closed my eyes and let my mind drift in an sea of night.


	21. Chapter 21

When I opened my eyes again, it was to a dark expanse of glittering stars and the familiar creak of waves against a wooden hull.

For a long moment I just stared up at the night sky, toying with the comfort the sight brought to me instead of considering what the view meant. I felt sleepy and safe and it was novel enough that I wasn’t quite ready to return to the harsh truths of reality. A warm, comforting weight curled around my side and pillowed my head away from the rough wood of the deck. The familiar scent of Stryker soothed the few sluggish concerns that drifted through my mind like a lazy wind.

Salt spray drifted onto the skin exposed by the soft shirt I was dressed in, carried by a gentle breeze that filled the sails above me with silent strength. I shifted minutely, testing my body for signs of injury left by Amarantha’s games, and felt the arm around my waist tighten enough to pull me more firmly into the warm male behind me.

Soft footsteps nearby hinted that I wasn’t the only one awake and I tilted my head to watch Ifrit pad across the deck and look down at the makeshift bed Stryker must have made in the relative safety beside the main cabin. She looked torn between teasing me for the compromising position and strangling me for the lines of worried exhaustion I could see staining the olive tones of her skin. She glanced at Stryker once before her hands began to sign, _How are you feeling?_

I glanced back at my mate before I carefully responded, _Fine now. It seems like the worst of it has already passed. What happened? Is Talia okay?_

Ifrit’s lips twisted into a scowl, puckering the scar that bisected her lip. _She managed to get you the antidote for whatever Amarantha gave you. The bitch general ordered us to move out as soon as you stopped seizing and we managed to flag Frey down to ferry us across._

_And Talia?_

_She’s…_ Ifrit glanced back at the loft above the main cabin where I guessed Talia was resting, _She’ll be fine once she sees that you’re okay._

I nodded, feeling a new wave of exhaustion from my battered body. Ifrit must have noticed the way I was struggling to keep my eyes open because she gave a brisk nod. _Get some sleep, we’re landing in a few hours and I doubt it’ll be safe to sleep again soon._

Maybe if I was a stronger female, I would be able to turn down the opportunity to snuggle closer to my mate and spend one more night safe and cherished in his arms, but I wasn’t strong. Instead, I rolled on my side and tucked my face into the crook of his neck and let the scent of my mate and the gentle rocking of the ship lull me back to sleep.

_____________________________________________

 

The next morning I was up and moving before the first light of dawn turned the sea a glittering gold. Sometime in the night, Stryker had shifted onto his back and it was the work of a moment to slip out of his loosened hold and get to my feet. 

Someone, probably Talia, had changed me into loose fitting clothes after our ill-fated meeting with Amarantha and I was grateful for them as I stretched out the stiffness in my joints. Frey was up the main mast looking far too active for someone awake this early. A few lumps of softly snoring blankets hinted at the location of the rest of my Core. I smiled at the sound.

A lonely figure was outlined against the coastline and I felt a twinge of sympathy at the silent misery outline in the tight shoulders and stiff posture.

Quietly, I padded over to where Talia was huddled and settled onto the deck beside her. She stiffened minutely when our shoulders brushed, but didn’t move away. I decided that was a good sign.

When she spoke, her voice was raw enough that I wondered if she’d spent the night drinking or crying. “How are you feeling?”

I nudged her gently with my shoulder, “Good as new.” There was a long moment of silence punctuated by the sound of her hard swallow. I sighed, “Tali...you know it wasn’t your fault. I’m fine.”

She flinched like I’d struck her. “I swear I never meant for you to take it. I--it shouldn’t have even been that strong!” Her eyes shifted from the horizon to plead with mine, “I don’t know what happened, Aria. Something must have--”

Stryker’s voice was enough to make both of us jump when he spoke up from behind us, “I think Amarantha added something to the glass.”

I twisted to look back at him. The early morning sunlight softened the lines of strain lingering around his eyes, but the hours of rest had eased some of the tension in his shoulder. He looked me over with the same care and smiled briefly when he met my eyes. 

“You saw her add something?”

“If I wanted to get rid of a problematic officer, the situation would be ideal.”

Talia frowned, “The spell I put on the wine shouldn’t have done more than give her diarrhea and awful stomach cramps for the evening.”

I scowled at her. “So much for a ‘simple healing potion.’”

“Whatever was in the wine wasn’t just Talia’s spell,” Stryker cut in. “She wanted to make a point and get rid of a problem at the same time.”

The news that Amarantha would manipulate her position of power to help her cause wasn’t exactly a surprise. Getting rid of me meant she could commandeer any member of my legion that could add to her cause and make a statement about what would happen to those who crossed her. Talia’s talents made her useful on battlegrounds and in Court intrigue.

“So Amarantha puts poison in the wine and lets Talia take the fall?” I mused, “Then she can sweep in and recruit Talia at her leisure once I’m dead.”

“And potentially find the excuse she needed to kill Stryker,” Talia added. 

“She must need Talia’s skills for something in Prythian,” Stryker said.

“Poison is a wicked thing,” Talia murmured thoughtfully, “Easy to hide and easy to slip into your target’s food or drink--especially during a party.”

Suddenly the gathering of the High Lords Under the Mountain had a new sinister undertone.

“She’s going to use Talia’s spellcraft to poison the High Lords…” I glanced back at my mate and watched the muscles of his jaw flutter as he gritted his teeth. Frustrated anger rippled through our bond and I narrowed my eyes at him. “What happened after I collapsed?”

Talia exchanged a meaningful glance with Stryker before she began to speak. “She tried to keep you there when we tried to get you help….Sh--she was going to-”

“I made a bargain with Amarantha to get us safely into Prythian if she let us save you,” Stryker said.

I frowned at him, nerves jangling in alarm. “Why would you do that? You know she’s just trying to manipulate you!”

“You would have died if I didn’t,” he hissed, temper flaring like a bright lightning flash through our bond, “I believe the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you, Stryker.’ “

“She wouldn’t have killed me that openly--it was just a power play.”

Green eyes went dark and turbulent. “You were dying.”

Talia winced at the reminder of her part in that moment and I felt my own temper flare in response. “It wasn’t worth the risk!”

“ _You’re my mate_ ,” he snarled, crowding into my space until his scent and the press of his body against mine, “It was worth it to me.”

All the anger and worry seemed to leach out of me then, leaving me feeling like I could barely stand under the weight of what his words meant. My mouth opened and closed with a snap of teeth. His eyes flicked over my face, testing each microexpression like it held some sort of secret key to understanding. I barely noticed when Talia made a grumbling noise and slinked away to join Ifrit at the helm. 

Stryker shifted his weight and abruptly moved away to lean one hip against the edge of the ship with his arms over his chest. After a moment, I followed.

“What are we doing here, Stryker?” I asked.

“Right now we’re about to argue over you continuing to let yourself be hurt, tortured, and abused by your commanders to protect your legion.”

I pursed my lips. “I have to protect them. I made a promise to keep them safe.”

“Do you think they enjoy watching you bleed out for them each week?” His voice felt like the same whips that once ripped into the skin of his back.

“I don’t have a choice. If it comes down to saving them or saving myself, I’ll always choose them.”

Stryker turned to face me at last, green eyes sharp as glass. “Why do you still fight for them? The army of Hybern has done nothing for its people but give them more enemies to fight and die for. You’ve seen the corruption and abuse of power first hand.”

“So what? I just leave?” I asked with derision, “If I go, Trask will punish any soldier that’s ever served under me and do everything in his power to destroy everything I know and love. I can’t go back to starving in the mountains and watch everything I’ve built crumble.”

“You could stay with me.”

The offer was its own form of poison. A sweet release from the daily struggles of my life in Hybern in return for a simple slide into an unknown ending. But, like any poison, it would leave death in its wake.

Helplessly I leaned closer into the warm curve of his side and sighed, “No one in Prythian would ever risk letting one of Hybern’s monsters loose in their midst.”

“You aren’t a monster.”

Ahead of us, I could see the rugged edge of Prythian’s coastline rising up out of the ocean like the jaws of some great beast. Beautiful. Deadly and completely unattainable. 

Our time was already running out.

Some of my despair must have translated through the bond because he wrapped a strong arm around my waist to tug me closer. Turning away from the view, I let myself close my eyes and savor this moment together.

“You’re going to have to choose,” I murmured into the skin warm fabric of his shirt, “You have to choose which side you’re willing to fight for.”

He went still, barely breathing. “And what side do you fight for?”

I shifted back to look to where Ifrit, Jace, and Talia were beginning to cobble together a breakfast. They looked tired and tense, but I knew they would relax once we were out of Amarantha’s grip. Jace caught me looking and smiled, eyeing the way I was leaned against Stryker and waggling his eyes suggestively.

It made it easier to look into the eyes of my mate and speak the truth.

“I fight for whatever side will keep them safe.”

__________________________________

 

Arriving in the secluded beach deep in the Winter coastline was almost anti-climatic. 

Frey used the cove routinely in his smuggling activities as a safe loading dock and easily maneuvered his clipper into the narrow space. I watched him work from the foredeck, ready to help with the wind he might need. The rest of my unit were busy packing the small packs we would use to traverse the distance to Under the Mountain. Nothing like miles of hiking through enemy territory to meet with the sociopath who tried to murder me yesterday to look forward to.

Already the temperature was turning frigid and I shivered under the thick layers of my fur lined armor and thick cloak. White powder covered the pale beach and cloaked the evergreen trees in the distance in a glittering sheet. Worse still, I could smell more snow brewing in the grey clouds above us. It wouldn’t be long before fresh powder joined the layers on the ground.

“You sure this is the best way to get to Under the Mountain?” I asked Stryker.

He grunted and refastened the ties of his cloak. “The snow will cover our tracks and keep us hidden from their patrols. Plus, Kallias will be at the ball Amarantha is throwing so we won’t have to worry about facing a pissed off High Lord.”

As if his words summoned it, thick snowflakes began to fall and a bitter wind sent the canvas sails to creaking. Talia growled in annoyance as she shouldered her pack, “Why anyone chooses to live in Winter Court, I’ll never know.”

“I don’t know--the mountains in Hybern are pretty awful in the winter too.”

You haven’t seen winter until you’ve been in the Illyrian camps, Ifrit signed with a grin. They don’t believe in handing out cloaks.

The boat lurched as we made landfall and Jace jumped off the side to anchor it to one of the rocks Frey indicated. The human put his hands on his hips in a mocking gesture, “Poor little fae. How did you manage to survive such inconveniences with all those magical powers at your fingertips?”

I leapt off the boat, angling my fall so my landing splashed icy water over Jace’s legs. I gave him an impish smile. “Oops.”

Stryker and Talia snickered behind me and I watched the three of them make their way onto the beach with their packs. Ifrit stopped to brush her hand over Jace’s shoulder in a commiserating gesture. I pretended not to notice the way they looked at each other for a heated moment. It felt too private.

Turning back to Frey, I helped him prepare the clipper to return to open waters. “I’ll signal when we’re ready for pickup--shouldn’t be more than a few days.”

His smile was a little tight. “I’ll remain nearby, storm singer.”

The title felt brittle against my skin and I looked away to where Stryker was watching the exchange curiously. “Don’t call me that,” I said under my breath, “I don’t do that anymore.”

“You might not have a choice soon...”

Something in his voice made alarm bells ring internally and I narrowed my eyes at him. “Do you know something?”

“You have many enemies, Aria girl,” he shrugged, “eventually one will get lucky. War is brewing.”

With that warning hanging in the air between us, he shifted back to the wheel and turned the clipper away. I stared at the outline of the ship, trying and failing to ignore the rising unease in my gut.

“Come on, Ari! We need to make it to the ridgeline before nightfall,” Jace called, distracting me from my thoughts.

Silently, I turned away from the shore and trudged up the incline to make my way into the trees.

 

Hiking in snow was as tedious as it was exhausting. Each step required pushing my way through the thick buildup of ice and trying to keep my footing with the hidden roots beneath. Sweat dripped down my hairline and froze uncomfortably against my skin a moment later. It was slow going and far noisier than I was comfortable with. Any attempts at secrecy at this point were probably undermined by the way my friends were currently competing for who was having the worst time in the snow.

 _The skin on my wings is slowly freezing,_ Ifrit signed. If there was a way to sign passive aggressively, she was doing it.

“Only your wings?” Talia snorted, “I think my ears and fingers fell off a few miles ago.”

Stryker leaned in close to purr in my ear, “Perhaps tonight we should huddle together for warmth.”

“If you’re warm enough to flirt, you’re warm enough to keep moving!” Jace called out behind us. 

“Jealous?” Stryker smirked.

“Please...it’s like watching my sister get hit on.”

“Your sister is hot.”

Rolling my eyes at their antics, I took another step and felt a clump of snow slide off my hair to trickle down my neck. Cursing at the uncomfortable sensation, I glared at the trees around us like they were to blame for this day. At least they blocked the worst of the wind. Of course, none of that would matter much once night set in and the temperature’s began to drop again.

Stryker must have sensed the direction my thoughts were headed because he nodded in the direction of a nearby copse of trees. “Those trees probably protected the ground from most of the snow. We can make camp there tonight.”

“Thank the Mother!” Talia said and tossed her pack on the ground with a relieved sigh.

I rolled my eyes at her antics, but couldn’t ignore the relief I felt at the thought of getting to rest. “Some soldier you are...We barely walked fifteen miles.” Jace and Ifrit moved ahead, already scanning the area for the best cover and firewood. It was second nature to prep an area for a makeshift camp and I trusted them to complete their usual tasks without any trouble. I turned to Stryker who was watching the rest of the Core with a carefully neutral expression, “Thanks for helping us find a way to move through Winter. This route will save us a lot of time.”

He pursed his lips into a flat line and looked back at me with a hint of pleading in his expression. “I can’t--Aria, don’t ask me to do this.”

“Do what? Help us?” I asked, shifting my body so our conversation would remain private.

“Help _her._ ” He stared at me with enough pain that I felt my heart ache, “Amarantha wants to destroy everything I everything I’ve ever believed in, everything I sacrificed to protect. She’s a monster.”

Knives shaped like regret sank deeper into my chest and I sucked in a ragged breath at the echoes of emotion in our bond. Panic mingled with the familiar regret that this was the moment where everything changed. The moment when the promise of a soulmate was sacrificed at the altar of the greater good.

I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

Helplessly I looked back at the people I’d given up everything to protect and stared back at my mate. “I--” I started weakly, but he only pressed closer, cupping my face in weapon-rough hands and stroking the line of my cheekbones.

“Please, Aria. We could find a way to stop her,” he pleaded, “You know she’s evil.”

“If I don’t do as she commands, she’ll kill everyone I’ve ever cared about. She’ll murder dozens of innocents!”

“If she manages to take over Prythian, she’ll murder thousands!”

Somewhere in the distance a tree branch crackled in a sharp pop under the weight of the snow. I closed my eyes. “Stryker--”

Whatever I would’ve said was cut off by a sharp sound of pain from Ifrit. I whirled instinctively toward her, hands reaching for the familiar weight of my glaive at my back and finding it missing. All the fatigue I’d felt melted away in a white hot rush of alarm when a line of soldiers bearing the Winter Court emblem seemed to appear out of the trees around us.

Jace snarled in rage and lunged for the soldier who’d clipped one of Ifrit’s wings with one of arrows notched in a dozen bowstrings. Talia fumbled backwards, searching for cover and producing a fistful of knives from somewhere in her cloak. Even with the skills of my Core, they were hopelessly outnumbered against at least a dozen prepared scouts.

Argument with Stryker forgotten, I stepped forward with vicious intent. My magic leapt eagerly to my fingertips and the trees around us trembled against the wind that answered my call. A blonde female at the center of the group of scouts made a quick signal to the soldiers flanking her. Three archers shifted their focus away from Ifrit and the others to the larger threat--me.

With a vicious smile, I batted away their first shots with a lazy sweep of wind. The icy air around me solidified in a warning of Winter magic and I braced myself for a new wave of attack. It grew to a roar in the small clearing like the eye of a hurricane.

I wouldn’t let them take my family from me.

 

Then everything changed.

The whisper of steel at my throat felt like the death knells that sounded at the end of the War. A harsh reality set against the naive dreams of those who wished for more. Wished for happiness.

I went still. So still despite the pounding of my heart. The shaking in my soul. 

The others froze, Jace’s mouth open in disbelief and Ifrit making a harsh sound of rage. Staring at the wolf in our midst, the predator we’d welcomed with food and trust. 

Stryker. 

He tightened his grip on my arm, fingers digging in to the muscle to keep me still, to keep me trapped against the harsh reality of his knife at my throat and his body at my back. 

The Winter scouts hesitated, unsure now that the battle had shifted so unexpectedly. The blonde female edged closer, bow still drawn and pointed at me and frowned. “That you, Stryker?”

The ice around us sunk deeper into my veins, freezing my body while my mind was whirling, gasping like a dying animal. Trying not to recognize the reality staring me in the face. 

No. 

Please. 

His voice was rough as the shards dipping into my heart. “Hey Vivianne — I wasn’t sure you’d still be patrolling this area.”

The ragged thing that still stubbornly continued to beat in my chest gave a painful lurch when the female smiled at Stryker with a hint of relief and lowered her bow, signaling to the rest of her group. Before my hand could drift to the weapons at my waist, they landed on the ground at my feet with a dull thud. 

“Drop the rest of your weapons,” that awful, painful voice continued, “then get on your knees.”

Even worse was the gentle, comforting brush of his thumb against the pulse that thundered a steady rhythm to the numb messages my brain continued to create. 

Betrayer. Manipulator. Spy. 

Idiot. 

The last was directed at the burn in my eyes and the way I couldn’t seem to keep my breath steady enough so that everyone in this damned wasteland couldn’t tell my world was falling apart.

I didn’t have time to grieve for something I’d never truly had. 

But I couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out. “You played us,” I rasped against the steel at my throat and the pity beginning to bloom in the others’ eyes, “even after everything...you were just setting us up for your trap.”

He didn’t say anything, only gestured for my friends to drop their weapons. 

Gods, just kill me now. 

Fury replaced ice until I was practically vibrating in his grip. The bite of the blade pressing deeper into the skin of my neck centered me against the hurricane that was building in my soul. The evergreen trees around us shuddered violently in time with my uneven breaths as my magic began to sing to the wind around us, calling a new storm into being. 

“You better kill me quickly, you bastards,” I spat as Jace and Talia dropped to their knees with their hands behind their backs, “because I will never stop coming for you. I will never stop hunting you until every one of your heads are rotting at the end of a pike in my camp. I will _never_ forgi —“

A hard blow to the back of my head made the words clog in my throat and I fell forward into darkness.


	22. Chapter 22

Jace’s fingers carded through my hair in a soothing rhythm that offset the way my mind seemed to throb its’ way back to consciousness. I could feel the warm strength of his leg under my head as a makeshift pillow to keep me off the freezing earth. Somewhere nearby, a campfire crackled merrily in violent contrast to the tense silence around me offset by the occasional sharp wind ripping through the trees.

Without opening my eyes, I whispered, “Status update?”

Some of the tension in the body curved protectively over me eased at the sound of my voice and his fingers ran briefly over the bump on the back of my skull. When he spoke, he was comfortable in his position as one of my most capable supporters. “No major injuries. Talia and Ifrit are anchored to a tree a few yards away--Talia’s probably taken care of the scratch Ifrit took in the initial attack. You’ve been unconscious for an hour or so. They appear to be staying here for the night--I’m not sure where they’ll move us next.”

A dull emptiness in my chest made me wince uncomfortably and reach one finger to trace over the runes inscribed into the metal chains around my wrists. My magic remained tantalizingly out of reach and I resisted the urge to try to yank them off my skin. As Jace spoke, I carefully reinforced the mental shields that would keep my thoughts private.

I tried not to think about why that was so important now.

“Are they bound like me?”

“No,” he murmured, “They removed Ifrit’s siphons, but they were more concerned with securing you.”

“But they didn’t hurt you?” I asked again, worry bleeding into my tone. Somehow the thought that Stryker would harm my family to save his country hurt worse that the blade at my throat.

Jace looped an arm around my shoulder in a loose hug and sighed with a grim sense of humor. “I punched Stryker.”

My eyes came open in surprise and I flinched when I immediately spotted the male in question, his dark head tilted close to the blonde female as they spoke. As if he sensed my attention, his shoulders went tight and he stared intently at the ground. True to Jace’s casual statement, a dark bruise was blooming to life along his jawline. Silently, I twisted to look back at the human with a curious expression.

He shrugged. “The Winter soldiers thought I was just another meek human slave trying to serve my masters so they didn’t bother to secure me very well--their mistake,” His voice remained pitched low enough not to be overheard but I could feel the vicious triumph he felt at proving them wrong. “I waited until I had an opening and knocked him flat.”

The smirk he leveled at Stryker over the campfire was violent enough to do any fae proud.

New fear bloomed in my chest and I caught the hand he had on my shoulder to run a careful finger over his split knuckles. “You should have been more careful. They probably would have released you if you’d kept your head down.”

“You’re my family, Aria,” he growled, “I’m not going to abandon you to try to live out my days with the humans who left the rest of their kind to slavery.”

I fell silent, struck dumb by the vehemence in his tone and the way my eyes burned with emotion. 

“Thank you for defending my honor.”

He smiled lightly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Talia and Ifrit are mad that they didn’t get the opportunity. He has a lot to answer for.”

True to his word, I could make out the familiar blonde and dark haired figures a few yards away. Heavy looking rope kept the secured with their backs to one of the massive cedar trees that kept us sheltered from the winter weather. Talia was frowning irritably at the complicated knot just out of her reach like she could make it combust under the force of her glare. The gleam of Ifrit’s eyes were bright in the firelight and I imagined she was busy analyzing the movements of the scouting group for any weaknesses she could use against them to make an escape.

Against every ounce of self preservation I still possessed, I looked over at the male in question and flinched when green eyes met mine. His face looked haggard, vulnerable in a way that made me want to curl my lip in disgust. What right did he have to look at me like that? Slowly, I tilted my chin up in silent challenge before I returned my focus to Jace in a pointed dismissal of his presence.

I pretended not to feel the grief that poured through the mate bond.

_______________________________

Hours later, near silent footsteps crossed the invisible barrier between my imprisoned soldiers and the small Winter unit. I focused on keeping my breathing quiet and even when Stryker moved into my sightline. The shadows of the dying flames cast strange shapes in the familiar hollows of his face, making him seem foreign and strange. Pain bracketed his pale eyes and I felt a vicious sort of pleasure in the thought that the bargain we’d struck was probably causing it.

It felt like a hollow victory compared to the aching sadness in my soul.

My sudden tension was enough to wake Jace from where he was slumped against my shoulder, dozing. His dark eyes took in the situation quickly and a snarl twisted his lips when Stryker came to a stop in front of us. “You aren’t welcome here, traitor. You’d best walk away before I ruin the rest of your face.”

Stryker kept his eyes fixed on me. “I need to talk to you.”

“I think you’ve made yourself quite clear,” I said bitterly, “It was my mistake to think that a mate bond was enough to change your mind. I can’t say you didn’t warn me.”

He made a ragged sound of pain and I felt Jace’s arm tighten around my shoulders as he tilted his body protectively in front of me.

“I didn’t--I never meant to hurt you,” Stryker whispered and I watched the hands stretched instinctively toward me clench into fists and jam themselves into his pockets.

“You led us right to them,” Jace snapped, “You knew they would find us if we would travel this way.”

“Vivianne and her troops are good people. They won’t try to hurt you.”

I growled in frustration, pulling against the cuffs on my wrists until I could smell the sharp tang of blood in the air. “If we don’t show up at Amarantha’s command, all of us will be put to death. They’ll gut my legion and leave their bodies staked at the edges of the camp as a warning for anyone foolish enough to go against orders. It doesn’t matter if your friends let us live, we’ll be dead the moment anyone from Hybern sees us. All that’s left to decide is if it’ll be by Prythian or Hybern steel.”

Stryker’s lips twisted in a painful grimace, but he nodded, voice low and rough. “I know...that’s why I’m helping you leave. Maybe you can save your people before Trask or Amarantha realize that you’re missing.”

I stared at him in shock, blinking slowly.

Without a word, Stryker crouched down in front of us and used his knife to cut through the rope bindings that kept Jace hobbled and in place. The human watched his movements warily, knowing better than to reject this chance for freedom, but not wanting to owe Stryker for his help. Stryker handed the still-frowning human the blade and gestured towards Ifrit and Talia. “You should probably cut them loose--if they attack me, they’ll wake up the camp.”

Jace waited for me to give a nod of agreement before he stiffly walked towards the other members of the Core. If I strained my ears, I could hear their near silent conversation and the soft shuffle of feet on fresh snow.

An awkward silence fell between us as Stryker turned his attention to the cuffs that kept me bound and weakened without magic. It was a mocking sort of symmetry to our first meetings and I couldn’t help the way my hands shifted restlessly against the burning metal. I watched his throat shift with a hard swallow when his fingers brushed against the bruised skin of my wrist in a soft caress. He produced a key from one of the pockets of his shirt and quickly unlocked the thick manacles.

My magic returned in an eager rush and I released a shaky sigh of relief. It was easier to   
focus on that than the confusing mixture of relief and lingering betrayal left behind by what Stryker had done. The headache that had been driving me crazy ebbed so quickly I had to lean my palms against my eyes and release a shaky breath. Cool air ruffled through my hair like a familiar friend and raced around the clearing like it was eager to prove its usefulness after being locked away.

Already my mind was full of half baked strategies and plans to try to salvage the wreckage of this mission. Amarantha wouldn’t hesitate to use my feud with Trask and Crissen to her advantage when the news of our betrayal reached her. I estimated we’d only have a day before we lost the small element of surprise we could use to our advantage. The solution was a simple one, even if it came with the most risks. 

Before the truth came out, I had to challenge Trask.

It was a move I’d never dared before--to much risk that Trask would ignore the challenge in favor of citing me for insubordination or sending one of his allies to gut me in my sleep. I’d been patient in our feud, choosing to lay low and gather allies of my own. That plan was ripped to shreds the moment Stryker’s true loyalties were exposed. Or maybe it was the moment I’d chosen to risk everything to save the green-eyed male tied to a post in the arena.

Stryker watched me like he could sense my thoughts even with the shields held tightly in place between us. He glanced away when the sounds of footsteps came closer and some of his tension eased when Ifrit, Talia, and Jace came into view. Jace must have told them who was responsible for this impromptu jailbreak because they didn’t do more than watch Stryker, still crouched beside me, with hooded eyes.

“We should leave before we lose the cover of darkness,” I said. 

“The guard on duty won’t stop you,” Stryker offered, “If you keep heading east, you’ll reach the coastline by mid-morning.”

Ifrit stared at him for a long moment, hands raised like she intended to sign, but only nodded once, lips pursed in a flat line. Talia, too, looked conflicted by the shift from friend to enemy and back again. They looked to me in silence for direction, but I only shrugged, “We need to get back to camp before the news breaks.”

The others moved silently into the darkness and waiting shelter of the woods. I started to step after them, but paused when Stryker reached out to grab my arm. Whatever relief left by his return died in the carefully blank expression on his face. 

“You aren’t coming.” Though I’d intended it as a question, we both knew the answer. 

His fingers tightened on my arm for a fraction of a second before sliding away to tuck into his pockets. “I have to warn the Courts about what Amarantha plans to do.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” I said with a frustrated gesture, “even if they did listen to you, don’t you think the High Lords are capable of protecting themselves?”

His eyes hardened. “I have to try. They have to know what she’s planning.”

“It won’t matter if they know she plans to poison them. As soon as she knows you warned the High Lords, she’ll find another way to take Prythian and open the gates for the King’s army.”

“You know what Hybern will do if Amarantha succeeds in Prythian!”

“We can’t hope to win against her!” I snarled back. “It’s suicide.”

Instead of raising his voice to match mine, Stryker remained quiet, intent on convincing me to sacrifice everything on a chance. 

“We have to do something.”

I stared at him. At the pleading hope in his eyes and the stubborn tilt of his chin. “No,” I finally said, “we don’t.”

Our bond felt like it was stretching tighter, threatening to snap under the pressure of this moment. He’d shored up his mental shields so high that I couldn’t read any of his emotions or thoughts and I knew mine was the same. I could only stare into his eyes, willing him to choose to stay. Choose to keep the promises he’d whispered in a tiny camp tent. 

“Then I will.” I closed my eyes against the finality in his voice, breathing in the scent of pine and jasmine. When I opened them again, his expression had turned desperate. “Please, Aria… it doesn’t have to be like this. You and the others could start a new life here.”

We both knew that wasn’t true. There was no Court in Prythian that would allow a legion from Hybern to march past their borders. Especially carrying the news of Amarantha’s plot. 

“We both knew this had an expiration date,” I offered instead, hoping to keep my voice and expression matter of fact. “Let’s not pretend we weren’t aware that it would come down to this.”

“You’re my mate,” he growled. 

But he didn’t try to stop me from taking another step toward the woods. 

I shrugged. “I suppose we were perfectly matched after all — we both are willing to sacrifice our relationship for the cause.” My voice broke on the last word and I looked away quickly, trying to get the words out before the last of my control fled, “Thank you for...what we had.”

Stryker’s chest heaved on a jagged breath and I tasted agony in his eyes. “Don’t,” he whispered. 

I gave him a tight smile. “You know I can’t stay.”

They would kill us both. And Trask would destroy everything I protected in revenge. 

So I stepped out of the firelight towards the woods, trying to see if the distance between us could match the chasm that was shuddering down our bond.

There was a beat of aching loneliness.

Then his arms were around me and I was spinning to bury my face into the crook of his neck, trying to breathe the scent of him deep enough inside that I would remember it. Imprinting it into my lungs and skin so it would still be a part of me after tonight. My hands slipped past the barrier of his shirt to touch warm skin that I knew as well as my own. That burned and shifted beneath me with the same thundering pulse that pounded in my ears. 

His fingers buried themselves in the dark mass of my hair and he tilted my head up to meet his lips in a kiss that stole the air from my lungs and the control from my mind. I kissed him back, begging, pleading with the words that remained unspoken in each frantic caress. 

Don’t go. 

Don’t leave me. 

Then it was over and we were left panting in the flickering light, our breath silver smoke and regret. Stryker’s hands shook slightly as he brushed away a strand of hair and cupped my cheek, resting his forehead against mine. 

“Meet me in a month,” he panted with a desperate note, “There’s a city, Kharos — I have friends there and can guarantee your safety long enough for us to figure out what to do. Or I’ll come back with you. Just...just give me a little time to finish this. Please.”

I hesitated, trying not to think of the odds stacking against us. Trying not to let the logical voice in my mind remind me that we would only be delaying the inevitable and focused on the silent pleading in his eyes. 

“Alright,” I finally said, “One month.”

His smile chased away the growing ache in my chest. Quickly, Stryker gave me a kiss that lingered with gentle sincerity before he took a step back and nodded to where the rest of my Core disappeared. 

“Go.”

And this time, he didn’t try to stop me.


	23. Chapter 23

For the first time since we’d landed in the Winter Court, the cold seemed to perfectly match our mood as we trudged our way down the path we’d forged only hours earlier. No one spoke. 

More than once I caught the others watching me with the same kind concern that made it seem like they expected me to fall to pieces at any moment. Instead, I focused on the exhaustion from the long march and little rest settle into my bones and let it chase away any distracting thoughts. In the silence, I could pretend the brittle ice in my chest came from the environment instead of the fragile bond going still and silent in my mind.

Part of me wanted to lower my shields and reach out. To torment myself with the idea that Stryker had his focus still turned toward our slow path to home and the bloodbath waiting for us. To see if he regretted walking away.

But I just kept walking.

We stopped at the first signs of light cresting through the trees to collapse in a bare patch of earth beneath two fallen logs. Jace fished out some mostly thawed bread and cheese and we each hungrily attempted to regain some of the calories lost in this long night. Ifrit and Talia leaned against each others’ back and dozed in the weak warmth from a passing sunbeam.

Instead of joining them, I grabbed a piece of bread and nodded in the direction of the coast. “I’m going to see about summoning Frey so we don’t lose anymore time.”

Jace looked unconvinced, but he didn’t protest. “Don’t go too far.”

Maybe if I wasn’t so drained I would take the time to reassure some of the tension away from my team, but I just couldn’t summon the words. Silently, I made my way further west through the thinning snow. A nervous, near frantic energy was pulsing under my skin like a drumbeat. It felt like I would shatter into pieces if I stopped moving. I could see the worry in my friends’ faces and it drove me further into the sharp cold and scent of cedar towards the faint smell of salt and sea.

A few minutes later, the evergreens thinned out until I was staring out at the cold waves of the sea. 

I felt...untethered. LIke my body was constantly drifting to some far off, unseen point while my mind tried and failed to focus on what was coming. I couldn’t risk going back to Hybern and to Trask’s waiting blade without being fully committed to this plan. I had to keep Stryker tucked away in Winter where he belonged. At least he would be safer there.

Not for the first time, I wondered if the beauty of a mate bond tethering the lucky few to another was a double edged sword. The choice was made by some strange twist of fate that pulled two strangers together inexplicably. No one liked to think about the matebonds that ended in disaster, abuse, and worse. All that mattered was furthering the most powerful genes of our race--not fickle emotions or the compatibility of two minds. 

It was only in the quiet moments, where all I could hear was the steady beat of a heart in perfect sync with my own and the sensation of his breath brushing against my skin. Already I wished I could return to the night we’d spent tangled together under the stars, safe and warm. I wished I still had enough innocence to believe that we might meet again in Kharos in a month’s time.

Instead, I let the cold truth that the fragile, weak chain that linked us together would remain a painful reminder of an unattainable dream settle deep in my bones. It was good, I decided, that it ended when it had. No hurt feelings or bitter betrayals would marr the brief happiness we had. It would have to be enough.

I took a long, slow breath, letting the sharp bite of the air center me. 

Ahead of me, the ocean surged forward, implacable and unending. It cared little for the choices I had to make or the death that was edging closer. In the distance, I could barely make out the familiar shape of Frey’s grey sails cutting through the waves. Stepping forward, I felt some of the worry plaguing me ease. At least we had a chance to make it back to camp on time.

Gathering my magic, I stepped off the cliff to disappear into a gust of bitter wind and ozone.

Frey jumped in surprise when I winnowed into the center of the deck. His dark eyes darted around the space like he was expecting some sort of attack, but spoke before I could question it. “What are you doing here, Aria girl? I wasn’t expecting you back for a few more days.”

“Our plans have changed--we need to get back to camp immediately.”

The water wraith swallowed and looked down at the scarred wood of the deck before he nodded. “I’ll meet you on shore then.”

I nodded my thanks and disappeared with another subtle burst of magic to gather what was left of my team.

_________________________________________________

If Frey was surprised by Stryker’s disappearance, he was careful not to comment on it or the lingering tension keeping the rest of us quiet and subdued. His strange behavior from earlier also disappeared beneath a stubborn cheerfulness that managed to coax smiles from Ifrit and Jace. It helped that he’d lit several metal braziers on the deck to ward off the lingering chill from the Winter Court.

We flopped on the deck in a discordant pile of frozen gear and exhausted limbs. Even without my mate, it was comforting to be surrounded by my strange family and appreciate a rare moment where we were safe and warm. Talia and Ifrit bracketed me on either side, letting the warmth of their nearness center me against the lingering effects of Stryker’s absence. None of us were particularly good at discussing feelings, but their silent support was enough to restore some of my energy.

They were counting on me not to fall apart.

Frey moved around us, listening idly as he navigated the ropes and sails above us. The boat creaked with the rhythm of the waves and I tried not to think about how different this trip was compared to the last. Once he was satisfied, he leaned against the railing nearby and settled in to listen to our conversation.

“So what’s the plan?” Jace asked.

Automatically, I paused to fill the sails with a new wind until the ship was nearly skipping across the waves in the direction of our homeland. “We have to make it back to camp before Amarantha sends word to Trask that we betrayed her.”

“Trask will use it as an opportunity to ruin you,” Talia muttered and I wondered if she noticed the way she leaned more firmly against me like she could keep him from me. “He’ll brand you a traitor. Even if he doesn’t, Amarantha will come for you--she still has the king’s ear.”

“I know,” I said. “The only hope we have is if I can challenge him before the news breaks. It’ll be enough of a distraction that you can gather the legion and move them out of the camp. If I win, I can claim the legion as my own and make it an independent unit.”

There was a pause where everyone carefully didn’t discuss what would happen if I failed.

Jace frowned, “You’re exhausted and distracted, Ari. You’re in no condition to fight.”

I tried to project some of my old confidence in my smile. “Have a little faith. This is what we’ve been preparing for for decades. It was always going to come down to me and Trask in the Arena.”

“Trask has always underestimated our Aria,” Frey murmured cheerfully. He leaned down into one of the chests on the deck and produced a bottle of wine with a jaunty wave. “Let us drink to her success!”

I smiled tiredly at him and accepted the goblet he passed over, elbowing Ifrit playfully to chase away her frown, “You three worry too much--I’ll be fine. This time he won’t be able to keep me from my magic. I’ll rip him to shreds.”

When I went to raise the glass to my lips, Ifrit snatched it away with a smirk. Her hands flashed in the midday light, Can’t drink before a fight. You can’t risk embarrassing us by being drunk off your ass in the Arena.

I laughed and pretended to pout even as my mind returned to the problem at hand. “Spoilsport.” Frey was right--Trask had grown confident that the limitations he’d placed on my power would be enough to keep me from becoming a true threat. He was used to seeing me bloodied and tired after facing opponent after opponent. I didn’t intend to give him the chance to rectify that mistake.

“We hit them hard and without mercy,” I said into the somber quiet. “We won’t give them enough time to realize their mistakes until they’re bleeding out on the ground beneath us.” Grim silence met my words and I carefully met each of their eyes before I nodded. “Until then, we rest and--”

Whatever I would have said disappeared like mist as Ifrit made a gagging sound beside me. I turned to face her in time to see all the color drain from her face and her shaking hands let the half emptied cup fall to the ground. Pale foam bubbled at her lips and she turned wide eyes to me.

Jace lurched forward in alarm as Talia leapt to her feet. “Ifrit? What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice slipping into the familiar calm of the healer’s order.

Ifrit opened and closed her mouth like she was trying to use her damaged vocal chords to speak, but only produced an painful sounding croak. Helplessly, we gathered around her and helped ease her onto the floor of the ship. The Illyrian twitched violently and curled on her side to dry heave onto the deck, body spasming long after she stopped. Blood splattered the liquid left behind and I felt a new fear take hold in my heart.

I couldn’t lose her like this.

Deep in the darkest corners of my mind, I felt a familiar presence stir before it was washed away in my own panic. I stood, spinning on my heel like I could find the source of her pain on the seas around us. “Was she injured when we left? I didn’t smell any blood.”

“No!” Jace said, sounding frantic as he clutched Ifrit’s hand in his. “I checked her. She was--she was fine, I swear.”

“Maybe the weapons were laced with something and I missed it,” Talia grunted. With practiced movements, she began unlacing the thick leather armor on Ifrit’s torso to check for any injury hidden beneath. Part of me instantly rejected the idea that Stryker would allow anyone to hurt someone I loved, but a tiny niggle of doubt persisted. Would Stryker use Ifrit’s injury to ensure we wouldn’t threaten his plans to save his country?

Eager to help in anyway I could and avoid my churning thoughts, I raced to where the bucket of fresh water was kept to retrieve a cool cloth and drinking water. Talia’s face was pale with stress as she sent her magic into Ifrit, seeking out the cause of her pain like a bloodhound to scent. Jace was equally panicked as he stroked a hand over Ifrit’s close cropped and murmured softly to her.

Only Frey remained out of reach, standing frozen beside the mast with his eyes fixed on Ifrit’s shaking form. And I felt my stomach lurch as an awful idea took root.

“It’s poison,” Talia confirmed, “Bloodbane, if I had to guess, and enough that she wouldn’t survive if I wasn’t here. Whoever dosed her didn’t want her to survive it.”

Jace made an agonized sound and curled closer.

Frey licked his lips and avoided my eyes, “Perhaps those Winter soldiers sought to ensure that you would not return to their lands.”

Slowly, I looked down at the dark stain of wine left behind by the abandoned goblet. Stared at the wine that was meant for me and poured by a friendly hand to celebrate my return to Hybern. Distantly, I could hear Talia continuing to speak and the deep bass of Jace’s voice reacting. I listened to Ifrit’s weak attempts to expel the poison in her bloodstream even as her body weakened.

When I met Frey’s eyes, I saw the answer to each awful accusation.

He lurched forward, to run or to attack I wasn’t sure, but my knife was already slicing through the air to embed itself deep in the muscle of his shoulder. His fingers scrabbled at the blade instinctively, but I didn’t give him the time to pull himself free. My magic slammed into him like a wall of glass, pressing against him until each breath was a gift and he could feel his bones start to break.

“You did this,” I hissed.

The water wraith thrashed against my hold with what little strength he had, but we both knew it was hopeless. Dark eyes the color of the deepest depths of the ocean met mine and his face twisted in a mockery of pleading. “Please, Aria...I didn’t have a choice. They would have killed me!”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” 

Behind me, Jace lurched to his feet, breathing heavily. “You betrayed us!,” he snarled, “I’ll gut you myself.”

“Who was it?” I asked, throwing out a hand to stop the human’s movement. “Who gave you the poison?”

Frey’s eyes flicked back and forth between me and Jace like he was trying to decide who was the bigger threat. Almost casually, I reached forward to twist the knife still pinning him against the mast like a bug on a wall. He hissed in pain, arm spasming helplessly against the now-broken joint. “I--I didn’t mean to--”

His excuse was cut off by a strangled scream of pain when my fist landed against his still-bleeding injury. “I’m not interested in your excuses,” I hissed, “All that matters now is who I’m going to kill next.”

“Aria, please,” he gasped, “I can’t help it. It’s...it’s my nature.”

Greed. The cardinal sin and curse of the water wraiths.

Part of me wanted to laugh in disgust at how long I’d been willing to overlook the darker part of Frey’s nature. It was stupid to believe that the steady income he earned with the help of my winds would be enough to satisfy the endless ache of needing more, always more. I’d trusted him with my family and now Ifrit was paying the price.

The wrath boiling beneath my skin must have bled into my face because I watched a dull sort of acceptance creep into his expression. Tears of pain and frustration tracked jagged lines across his cheeks and he sucked in a shuddering breath. Looking away, he twisted his lips into a mocking scowl.

“All I had to do was make sure you didn’t make it back to Hybern alive after you finished with Amarantha.”

Any thought that this was all recompense for our failure to reach Under the Mountain and assist Amarantha’s plans died there.

“She would’ve killed me even if we did what we were ordered to do,” I said quietly.

“The spy would’ve been a bonus,” Frey explained. “She wanted him alive and brought back to her.”

“Was Trask a part of this?”

“He was going to meet the ship when it docked in Hybern and secure the rest of your unit,” he said and flinched when my magic squeezed tighter around him. His breath whistled through his lungs in a painful gasp that experience told me indicated a punctured lung. I didn’t plan to let him suffer through it for much longer.

“How much did it cost to turn you Frey?” I asked. “Did you even hesitate to sell us out?”

His eyes met mine, wide and luminous with pain and misery. “She was going to make me a captain of my own crew. Make me an admiral for her new navy and finally give me the means to avoid scraping by with whatever leftovers Trask tossed my way. I can finally succeed.”

The slow smile I leveled at him did nothing to ease his nerves and I leaned closer to grasp the collar of his shirt. The magic pinning him to the mast disappeared quickly enough that he sagged in my grip and gaped up at me in surprise. “Oh, Frey…” I murmured and tried not to enjoy the way he shivered in terror, “You were dead the moment you let Amarantha on this ship.”

Before he could do more than widen his eyes, I pulled the knife out of his shoulder and rammed it deep into the soft flesh of his gut. I stared into his eyes as he choked, spasming helplessly against my hold as hot blood spilled onto the ground. Looking to Jace, I waited for him to give a slight nod of approval before I twisted the blade again, scraping against bone. Frey screamed.

Now the only thing holding him upright was my grip on the fabric bunched at his collar and I used it to drag his twitching, bleeding body to the side railing. Talia and Ifrit watched on as I lifted him over the rail to dangle over the waves and his hands came to clutch feebly against mine.

“P--please, Aria,” he begged.

“You deserve this pain and worse for the damage you have done this day,” I intoned, merciless and grim in the setting sun, “but I’m pressed for time.”

Frey opened his mouth to speak, but I just released my hold and watched him sink beneath the waves in a spreading cloud of dark blood. When I turned back to the others, painted in the water wraith’s blood, they only watched with grim satisfaction. Ifrit was laying limp and quiet in Talia’s arms and I felt a surge of relief that the healer was able to ease her into a healing sleep.

Jace’s chest heaved with barely controlled anger beside me and he nodded again in silent approval before he eyed the far off coastline. There was an unfamiliar darkness lingering in his eyes that sat oddly on his naturally friendly features. “Trask will be expecting us.”

“His soldiers never expected us to return so quickly,” I said. “We’ll just have to surprise him.”

Without waiting for any agreement from the rest of the Core, I raised my arm and sent all of my power hurtling into the sails. 

__________________________________________

Ifrit’s face was as pale as the thin white clouds trailing across the sky by the time we reached the familiar cliffs of home. We docked the boat in a secluded inlet that was far enough away from the army’s docks that we might be able to escape their notice. Talia and Jace took turns swapping out the damp cloths we’d placed on her head to try to cool her, but it was clear our makeshift first aid wouldn’t be enough. Talia was look as pale as Ifrit after attempting to repair the damage left behind by the fast acting poison. 

“She’s not going to make it if we don’t get the antidote in her,” she finally muttered and I tried not to panic at the bleak expression on her face. 

“We don’t know if Trask knows what we did yet. He may be waiting for us back at camp.” The truth was grim reminder that our options were running out. “I can—“

Jace stepped up, slinging his sword into place, “I’ll go.”

“Jace,” I protested, “It’s too dangerous.”

“One of us has to go,” he said stubbornly, “Talia needs you here to keep any other raiding parties or an ambush at bay and, without magic, I can’t do that. But I can hike back to the camps and get a team out here to help.”

I frowned. “I don’t like sending you alone.”

“And I don’t like having to argue with you when Ifrit is wounded,” Jace snapped irritably, “I’m a soldier. Stop treating me like I’m useless because I’m a human.” My frustration softened but I was still opening my mouth to argue when his hand wrapped around my wrist. “I have to save her, Aria.”

I glanced between Jace and Ifrit’s unconscious body and sighed, “Get back in two hours or I come get you, raiding parties or not.”

I didn’t need to remind him that if he took longer Ifrit might die. 

He nodded once and clapped a hand on my shoulder in thanks. His gaze lingered on the fallen Illyrian like he was burning it into his memory before he jogged down the trail and out of sight.


	24. Chapter 24

Time passed slowly, painfully, despite the way I tried to will it to move faster.

For the first time since we’d walked away, Stryker was pushed to the back of the mind in the wake of the endless ticking of a clock counting down. I switched between eyeing the sun in the sky to keep track of time and wandering around the ship like a ghost. Talia remained fixed at Ifrit’s side in the boat, her magic a warm, golden light over scarred skin. Somehow she’d managed to keep Ifrit in a sort of stasis to keep the poison from wreaking more havoc while we waited for Jace to return.

Unsurprisingly, Talia was quick to shoo me away so she could focus on the complicated nature of her gift. Not for the first time, I wished my skills lay in a more creative outlet instead of destruction. All of us knew that our successes so far would not have been possible without Talia’s support and I squeezed her shoulder in silent support before I did as she ordered. I knew how hard she took it when one of us was hurt.

For my part, I focused on preparing the ship to move quickly once more in case we were set upon by Trask’s men. I laid down as many tripwires as I could risk with my magic to serve as an early warning system, but I knew it would only give us a little more time to run. There was no way I could fight without risking Ifrit and Talia. It was little more than a stopgap to keep me busy while we waited for Jace to return.

Anxiety was a twisting mass in my gut that seemed to flex and shiver as one hour edged into two. I tried to estimate how much time it would take to make it from the coastline to our camp on foot, but everything pointed to the fact that I was terrified to acknowledge:

He should have been back by now.

Jace understood--perhaps more than any of us--how much was at stake with his mission. Every minute that passed was another wave of agony for Ifrit and lowered chances for her recovery. I knew without any doubt that Jace would have pushed himself to his limits to reach camp and return as quickly as humanly possible.

So where was he?

I was pacing across the deck for the eight hundredth time when Talia finally spoke, “He should be back by now.”

For some reason, hearing her admit that made my panic double until I was near vibrating with the urge to _do_ something. I slowed my step and looked at her carefully neutral face. It was easy sometimes to forget that Talia had seen more blood and pain in her lifetime than any creature should have to suffer for. That sort of dark knowledge had shadows lingering behind her eyes when we acknowledged the fact that the weakest member of our unit was at risk and how quickly things were beginning to fall apart.

“I know,” I murmured.

She glanced down at Ifrit’s too-pale body, “We can’t wait much longer. You’re going to have to go.”

“What if Trask finds the ship? I can’t leave you undefended.” The thought of losing another member of our strange family made the air around me shiver with discomfort. We were breaking apart no matter what I did to stop it.

“It won’t matter if Ifrit dies or Jace is captured,” Talia said. She looked down at the Illyrian warrior on the deck, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. “You’re the only one who could manage it. I can keep Ifrit stable for another hour or so barring some sort of complication.”

I considered her for a long moment before I nodded slowly. “If I’m not back in an hour, return to Winter. Stryker may be loyal to Prythian, but he could be convinced to help you both if you offer your skills to their cause.” Mother help us if he wouldn’t. Words and apologies rose in my throat to pass along to my failed mate, but I forced them away in favor of sounding resolute. “I can find my own way back with Jace if I need to.”

Neither of us acknowledged the fact that if I didn’t return it was because I was dead.

Abruptly, Talia stood and threw her arms around me in a fierce hug that I returned just as tightly. It was easy to forget how small she was compared to me when her fierce temper and clever mind seeming to make her larger than life. Now, with her face hidden against the thick leather of my armor, I felt that facade begin to fracture. I swept my hand in a soothing move down her back and squeezed her once more before I stepped back. We both pretended to not see the stubborn tear that dripped down her cheek.

Smiling gently, I nodded at Ifrit. “I’ll be back, Talia, I promise--and I’m bringing Jace with me.”

“You’d better,” she said with a passing resemblance to her usual temperament, “I’ve still got to kick his ass for making me wait.”

I smiled reassuringly and nodded again. I didn’t bother to gather more weapons from what was left from our stores, just held onto the familiar grain of my glaive and returned my knives to their sheathes. She took a step back as I reached for the bright light in the core of my soul and winnowed away in a rush sea wind and the sharp crackle of thunder.

________________________________________________

Getting to camp was easier than I anticipated. I was familiar with the rotation of guard patrols on the outer edges of the army’s base and it didn’t take much effort to avoid their usual routes. Instead of jogging along as Jace had done, I winnowed along a path that would return me to camp as quickly as possible. 

It wasn’t until I reached the outskirts of the camp that I chose to move on foot. While winnowing into camp was possible, such movements were carefully monitored by the army mages and I didn’t want to let Trask know I’d arrived until I was ready to face him. Beyond reaching my legion, I still wasn’t sure how I’d be able to find Jace amidst all the soldiers usually moving around.

It turned out, that worry was useless.

As soon as the world returned to focus and form the familiar greys and browns of the dusty plains, I was met with row after row of soldiers standing with their weapons raised and ready. Archers moved to nock arrows into their bows and I could feel them aiming like a brand. There was no chance of finding cover amidst the puny scrub brush or even running back toward the far off treeline. Two hundred yards of barren ground was all that kept me from being surrounded by their forces. Instinctively, I eased my glaive into a defensive position and threw up my shields in preparation for an attack.

So much for the element of surprise and stealth--it looked like I would dealing with this the old fashioned way.

From this distance, it was difficult to make out the sigils of the collected warriors, but I could pick out the familiar broad shoulders of Crissen and Trask standing confidently in the center of their forces. Instinctively I searched for the crimson and silver of my own legion’s uniforms and couldn’t decide if it was good or bad that they were missing. Good that Trask hadn’t managed to twist their loyalty against them, but I couldn’t ignore the worry pooling through my gut that their disappearance signalled something much darker.

No one moved for a long moment. I could see the foot soldiers shifting nervously and felt a wicked sort of smile twist my lips. Trask’s attempts to break me down in the Arena had only ensured my legacy and reputation as a vicious fighter among my peers. It was a double edged sword that I intended to use to my benefit.

Despite my exhaustion, the raw need to protect my family and unit was enough to center my nerves and send my magic coiling around me like an eager friend. After so long hiding my abilities and waiting for a chance to strike back, it was a relief to finally pick up a weapon and do something about it. If Jace had made it this far, the battle brewing would give him the distraction he needed to get Ifrit the antidote safely.

Summoning every ounce of irreverent confidence I possessed, I smiled at Trask and projected my voice across the field. “General,” I called cheerfully, “I didn’t expect such a large reception for my return. What seems to be the occasion?”

“Aria,” Trask replied with the same amount of vicious excitement, “I admit, I didn’t think you’d be foolish enough to return after being branded a traitor.”

I stiffened minutely, wondering if, like Frey, this attack had been arranged with Amarantha’s blessing before I even left Hybern. Suddenly, I began to doubt that she’d ever truly wanted us to reach Under the Mountain or if she was only giving Trask the time he needed to topple my allies and power structure. Fury and bitter regret fought to consume me, but I forced my expression to remain placid.

“I am as loyal to Hybern as I’ve ever been,” I said instead. “I’ve proven my merit time and time again in the Arena and on the battlefield.” My eyes scanned over the line of nervous soldiers waiting for the command to move. “Tell me, how many of your men are you willing to lose to my blade?”

Their warriors shifted anxiously, tightening their hold on their weapons. Crissen turned away from watching me to snap an order I couldn’t quite make out from this distance. A group of soldiers lingering near the back of their lines moved forward in a tight unit to stand at Crissen and Trask’s side. I eyed them curiously before returning my attention to my enemy.

Trask made a broad gesture to the fae surrounding him. “They are soldiers of Hybern--eager to live or die to protect their kingdom. They are more than enough to bring you to your knees.”

“I’m not surprised to find you hiding behind other fae’s sacrifices, Trask. Why not face me like a real male and save them the effort?”

Crissen surged forward eagerly, but Trask cut him off with a sharp gesture. His lips curled into a sneer. “You don’t deserve the honor of soiling my blade,” he said. 

The confidence that remained prevalent in his tone put me on edge and I scanned the crowd again, looking for the source of his belief that he could destroy me so easily. The foot soldiers and archers gathered were a challenge, but without Trask taking the field, I was relatively confident in my ability to rout them. There had to be something I was missing.

The answer, when it came, was little comfort.

The small unit Crissen had summoned shifted once more to reveal the sagging body of a heavily bleeding soldier. It was a marker for how badly they’d beaten him that it took several seconds before I recognized the dark hair and mottled olive skin of Jace.

Instinctively, I lurched forward with my arm outstretched like I could reach him from this distance with sheer will power. My breath felt raw in my chest as I surveyed the damage done in just a few hours and the wind that curled around me surged like an invisible force to yank at the ties of their armor and rip helmets free from their skull. All around us the temperature dropped to a painful chill that felt ripped straight from the tundras of winter. My mind went quiet and still as though I were stepping into the Arena once more.

“What do you want?” I asked flatly. There was no point in pretending that Jace’s presence hadn’t landed like a blow to the chest--Trask had saved him for just this moment. “This fight is between us, not my soldiers.”

Trask sneered at Jace’s battered body. “This human doesn’t deserve the title of soldier. He’s nothing more than a slave misled by your lies and promises. Every drop of blood spilled here today rests on your head, Aria Bastardborn and Traitor to Hybern.” He paused to tilt the injured human’s furious eyes up to his own and made a sympathetic noise. “Still, I am not without mercy...I’ll return your pet to you should he prove his worth.”

My heart gave a painful lurch and I felt a spark of hope bloom despite the tension in my limbs. If I could get Jace clear of the soldiers, I might have a chance of winnowing back to the coast and making a run to Prythian. With my winds to aid us, I could get us to the coast quickly enough to find an antidote among our enemies. I was prepared to beg on my knees if it meant Stryker would use his contacts to save them.

Again, my mind cast outward, searching endlessly for the fraying end to the link just out of my reach. I never noticed how often I let myself lean on Stryker’s steady confidence and quick humor. Now there was nothing but an aching silence and a seemingly endless series of pitfalls in my path.

I straightened my spine and clutched my glaive a little tighter. “Name your challenge and I’ll meet it on his behalf.”

Trask laughed. “Very well, then. I’ll be merciful and allow you to work together to save him-” He leveled a cruel smile at me. “-Now tell me how grateful you are.”

If it meant saving Jace, I would walk over broken glass and coals barefoot so it wasn’t difficult to swallow my pride and grit out, “Thank you.”

“Good girl,” Trask crooned and gestured to the soldiers holding Jace in place. The human stood on wobbly legs, but his eyes were sharp and clear as he prepared himself for whatever was coming. In that moment, he was as much a warrior as any ancient fae and I let his strength center me. Jace was quick and clever and used to being underestimated by others. I had to believe he could survive this.

When they didn’t attempt to stop him, Jace took another step towards me. The general opened his arms in an expansive gesture that seemed to encompass the space between us. “We’ll make this simple,” he called, “If your human can make it to your side, you can keep him.” 

Beside him, Crissen reached for a massive longbow from one of his pages. My stomach plummeted, but Jace kept his eyes fixed on me. He stood calm and ready like the archers preparing for his death around him didn’t exist. For a moment, the memory of the bloodied, stubborn teenager I’d found in the pits of the Arena seemed to blend with the man that stood tall and proud before his enemies. Even now, he remained unbent, unbroken.

“If not...well, his death is no great loss.” Trask turned to whisper something to Jace and then Jace was running.

His feet pounded against the hard earth in a quick rhythm, balancing adrenaline against the pain of his injuries. Even with all his training, I knew he’d never be able to beat the speed and agility of the fae born. He kept his eyes fixed on me like a lodestone, arms pumping at his sides.

Slowly, Crissen drew back on his bow with one dark arrow held in place. Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

Too far, my mind whispered with horror, eyeing the distance between the archers and my friend. It’s too far. My shields wouldn’t be able to stretch beyond the midway point on the field and I couldn’t hope that my winds could block all of their attacks. Without hesitating, I raced forward, trying to close the gap while I reached for my magic.

I had to reach him first.

I was screaming into the void when I ripped the air currents around in order to winnow the distance between Jace and my pounding feet. Begging whatever gods that would listen to help me save him from the inevitable. 

One moment I was racing across the pale grasses of the meadow, the next the world slammed into focus with the cheers of my enemies and the full thuds of arrows slamming into the earth. I threw up a shield behind Jace’s staggering sprint and felt his body collide into mine, nearly throwing me off my feet. 

“I’ve got you!” I said jaggedly, watching the line of soldiers behind him for another attack. With a grunt, I sent a wave of air hurtling across the distance and watched with satisfaction as a line of soldiers were knocked off their feet. “I’ve got you Jace! I’ll get us back to the ship and —“

A wordless sound of protest ripped free from my chest when the hands that had been running over his back in an relieved embrace connected with three arrow shafts protruding from between his shoulder blades. My brain stuttered to a halt, beginning to realize that I was the only thing keeping Jace upright. 

“Jace?” I whispered. 

He coughed painfully and I felt blood splatter against my cheek and shoulder. “Ari… I’m sorry. I tried to get back. I —“ His voice was rough with pain and nearly silent against the roar of blood in my ears.

“Shh, don’t talk, Jace. You’re going to be fine,” I choked out, trying to lower him to the ground as gently as possible when his knees began to collapse. “Talia will have you fixed in no time.”

There was no way to lay him flat without injuring him further so I kept him half upright with my arms to brace him. In the distance, I could hear Trask and Crissen roaring their pleasure at the sight of my devastation but I ignored them. Nothing mattered expect finding some way to keep air in Jace’s lungs and seeing him whole again.

Jace’s eyes were wide and fixed on something just above me that I couldn’t see. Tears trailed over his cheeks and he choked out a ragged sob. “I don’t want to go, Ari,” he pleaded, hands gripping my shirt like claws, “Please don’t make me go.”

“You’re not going anywhere, Jace. You’re staying here with us. With me and Talia and Ifrit. We’ll keep you safe.”

“Ifrit,” he panted, eyes flickering around sightlessly and I felt the pain in my chest expand to full panic when I recognized the signs of shock setting in. “I have to tell her…”

“You’ll tell her, Jace, I swear,” I soothed, cradling him against me. “You two are going to be the best couple I’ve ever seen.” I was babbling now, unable to find the answers that would reset this moment and keep Jace breathing long enough to make it back. “You’ll have the sweetest little half breed babies the world has ever seen and we'll teach them to fight and watch them grow old and…”

His chest sank in a long breath and I looked down at him in alarm, “Jace?”

Hazel eyes stared blankly up at a sky darkening with the beginnings of rain, face still twisted in a mask of pain and desperation.

“Jace!” I was shouting now, shaking his shoulders roughly as though I could wake him up from the awful reality that was life without him. “Jace, _please,_ you have to tell her. You have to be alright. I promised them I’d bring you back. I promised.”

His body slid limply from my grasp and I stared in mute horror, trying and failing to restrain the grief that felt never ending. One arm flopped limply to the ground as though he was still reaching for the safety I hadn’t been able to give him. Around us, the first drops of rain fell to the earth, disguising the jeers from Trask and Crissen’s men. A few landed on his cheek, mimicking the tears that were streaming from mine as I carefully lowered him to the ground. 

Gently, I took his outstretched arm and crossed it over his bloodstained chest. His hand remained clenched in a fist and, when I tried to lay it flat, I frowned. A small brown packet lay nestled in his fist, protected against the attack that had taken him from me. 

Ifrit’s medicine. 

I tried not to think of what he must have done to keep it safe. Tried not to think about all the ways I’d failed him even as he’d sacrificed everything Slowly, I looked away from Jace’s still form to where Crissen stood watching me from several hundred yards away. He smiled mockingly, tossing away the longbow he’d used to shoot Jace down. 

A new wind began to howl through the field, blowing back my hair in a frigid blast and drying the tears on my cheeks. I pulled free my cloak and laid it gingerly over Jace’s too-still face and stood. 

For the first time, it took no effort to hide away my emotions to prepare for the battle ahead. They fit easily inside the yawning chasm left behind by my friend. The first human I had ever saved. The one I’d promised to give a better future, to give him peace. Jace, who I’d loved as fiercely as any brother.

How could I give him peace when I only dealt in death?

No, I thought slowly, I could not give Jace happiness — but I would give him vengeance. 

It was painfully easy to reach one hand up towards the air currents that brought the storm above us to churning life. The dark clouds spread, eating away at the sunlight until it encompassed it fully. Trees shuddered and bent as the wind greedily raked through their branches. Thunder rumbled its dull warning above and I watched the first flashes of lightning streak through the fat clouds. 

I wove the currents like a conductor, creating the perfect weapon to destroy every trace of this camp and the creatures that inhabited it. The warm, wet air from the coast came eagerly away from it’s normal paths to join with the cooler winds traveling from the mountains of my homeland.

Trask frowned, eyes at the sky above me and I watched him begin to shout orders that had the infantry rushing to close the distance to where I stood protectively over Jace. I didn’t bother to try to stop them when the first line of soldiers rushed toward me. 

No one would leave this field alive. 

I was not created to protect or serve. I was born to strip lungs of their breath and replace it with despair; to bring the world to its knees and hear my name spoken only in fearful whispers. For too long, I’d been content to be a warrior for others when I was made to be a nightmare in the form of a fae.

For a moment all I could think of was the afternoons spent in faraway fields with my mother’s gentle voice in my ear. “Storms are simple creatures, love. Eager to come to your call,” she’d say, “All it takes is a little warm winds and water and you’ll have a weapon ready to be unleashed.”

The air around me felt charged with my memories and grief, rain streaking like tears across my face and smearing the blood there like war paint. It dripped onto my lips tasting like heartache and war. The power built in heady waves that fed from the magic I gave easily until it roared like a freight train around me, drowning out the sounds of Trask and Crissen shouting their orders to the churning mass of fae.

“You can’t manage this level of power,” Crissen shrieked, trying and failing to sound confident in the face of the storm taking shape above me. “You’ll burn out!”

Rain pounded into the ground around us in stinging waves, making it difficult to see more than a few yards ahead of us. The wind surged in its place until debris and objects torn free from the campsite slammed into the ground and into the ranks of soldiers. I was forced to sink the blade of my glaive down to brace myself against its might. Instead of fighting the currents, I stirred them with familiar movements that mixed the cold and warm air into a shrieking mass of impending destruction. Within minutes, my clothes were soaked to my skin and my head was aching with the effort of feeding the monstrous storm.

Hybern’s army camp had remained safely off the coastline for years after the Great War. Their walls and embankments made invasions costly and nearly impossible enough that no Prythian army had ever attempted to take it. It was a marvel of military might and the long-standing leaders of each legion and their generals.

But all that preparation meant nothing compared to the howling winds and stinging rain of the hurricane I’d sung into being.

Only Jace’s body remained untouched by the chaos, safe beneath the shield I kept firmly in place.

Somewhere behind me, I felt the shift in the air that signaled the storm had made landfall and I felt a slow, wicked smile curve across my lips. An arrow thunked into the ground beside me and I turned to face Crissen as he lumbered closer, fighting against the wind. His eyes were narrowed with effort and I wasn’t surprised to see Trask lingering nearby. No doubt waiting to see who would survive the confrontation.

None of that mattered now. All I cared about was seeing them dead.

With a gesture, I cut through the air currents around me until I could stand without struggling and watch their approach. The hurricane winds sent the remaining soldiers scrambling for cover behind some of the permanent buildings, but none of them seemed to know how to fight back against nature’s fury. 

I smiled at their fear even as I leaned heavily against my glaive, feeling the drain on my resources. Even if I died now, the storm would continue my revenge for me.

The sound of a voice, familiar enough to make something in me jump in eager anticipation, called out to me through the thunder and rain. I turned, searching for the source, but only saw Crissen and Trask moving closer. They stepped into the relative calm of the eye of the storm and straightened, reaching for their own weapons.

“All this for a human slave?” Trask sneered. “You must have made a great deal of effort to keep us from discovering your true gifts, Storm Singer. Wasted it all away with your Arena washouts and the miserable creatures you collected.”

I looked down at Jace, his face still twisted in the fear and pain that brought his death, and let my grief feed into the storm until it drowned out all other sound. The ground beneath us was already showing signs of the flooding I knew would come off the coast and I spared a thought that my calculations to keep the worst of it away from Ifrit and Talia were correct.

“He is worth all of this and more,” I said. “Where are the rest of my legion?”

Crissen laughed, hefting his battle ax like he was contemplating which part of my body he would sink it into. “Did you really think we would let those treasonous bastards reintegrate into the rest of the infantry? None of them were ever truly loyal to our cause--so we put them down like the dogs they were.”

Lightning slammed into the earth all around us, deafening and blinding enough that I didn’t seen Crissen move until he was right in front of me. Only the axe slicing through the air gave me the warning I needed to throw myself backwards out of range. The spacing was awkward for my glaive--too close, too tight to maneuver the longer weapon. He used that to his advantage and twisted the haft of the axe to clip into my shoulder in a jarring blow.

Instead of retreating again, I surged forward and slammed the heel of my hand into his sternum. His lungs emptied in a painful rush. My elbow smashed into his nose with a satisfying crunch, but I wasn’t quite fast enough to miss the blast of boiling hot energy that sent me flying into the muddy earth a few feet away.

 _Aria!_ The voice called again, loud enough that I flinched and instinctively searched for who was calling me but only saw more enemies. _Wh--s happ--_ The words sounded faint and cut off oddly, but I didn’t have time to investigate further.

Trask’s attack gave Crissen the space he needed to regain his breath and his footing while I scrambled back to my feet. My glaive was lying a few yards away and I didn’t bother to try to reclaim it. The knife in my boot and belt would have to do. 

When he stepped forward again, I met him in a controlled rush. Crissen’s size and strength meant I couldn’t risk him landing a solid blow and Trask’s interference made it difficult to manipulate him into a vulnerable position. I had to keep Crissen’s body between me and Trask so he couldn’t see well enough to attack again, but I failed two more times before I landed a glancing slice across his forearm. It was clear that there wasn’t enough time to linger and deliver the punishment he deserved.

Crissen roared a challenge that I ignored in favor of sweeping low and letting the larger of my knives to cutting into his Achilles’ tendon. His leg buckled and I shifted my grip to drag the knife up his thigh into his artery. He made a choked off cry and tried to grab me, but I danced out of reach. Blood mixed with the mud in dark pools around us, the warmth jarring against the icy rain.

The big warrior lunged for me again, but it was child’s play to dodge his weak attack. My foot came down hard on the handle of the axe and I watched it sail out of his reach. I brought my heel down again to the satisfying crunch of bone. Dragging up the flagging remains of my magic, I built up a shield of solid air around us to keep Trask at bay and let me focus on my prey.

The effort cost me. Grey spots danced at the edges of my vision and I could feel how sluggish my limbs felt with each step. To conserve energy, I let the shields around my mind fall apart and sucked in a relieved breath. Almost immediately, my brain was flooded with a confusing mixture of worry and panic that felt foreign to the numb grief that had accompanied me since Jace fell.

I sucked in a surprised breath, distracted from Crissen by the feedback from my fraying mate bond. Part of me wanted to curl into the warmth that lingered just out of my reach, but it was tired and quiet compared to the storm around me.

 _Stryker..._ I whispered down the bond and felt an immediately surge of knee-weakening relief.

 _Where are you?_ He demanded, his voice sounding somehow raw and frantic even through the mental link. _What’s happened?_

He must have moved closer to the coast somehow since we’d left. It was the only explanation for why our weakened bond was functioning well enough to communicate now. I wondered if that meant he regretted his choice or if he’d attempted to come back for me. Instead of answering, I left my mind open, unguarded. I didn’t have the words to explain everything that had been destroyed today.

Crissen crawled forward, one hand pressed firmly against his bleeding leg to try to slow the flow long enough for him to heal. I ignored him in favor of gesturing with a hand and letting a weak wind bring my glaive to me instead of retrieving it myself. Before he could do more than move a few feet, I brought the blade down in a vicious arc that sliced into the meat of his shoulder. 

He screamed and I watched with satisfaction as his arm went limp and spasmed helplessly at his side. I shifted my blade beneath his chin to force him to stare up at me, tutting at the way he continued to gasp in pain. “Quiet now,” I purred. “Isn’t this what you wanted? To see me broken?”

To his credit, he managed a passable snarl. “You’re as good as dead now--you aren’t powerful enough to control this storm.”

“You’re right,” I shrugged and then shifted my grip on the handle of my weapon. “But I’ll get to watch you die first.”

Before he could do more than blink up at me, I dragged the edge of my blade across the fragile skin of his throat. Blood pooled at my feet and he choked, instinctively struggling for air through his ruined neck. I watched impassively as his pounding heartbeat visibly slowed and finally went still. He slumped forward to fall face down in the mud.

Good, I thought viciously, he belonged there.

At the edge of my shields, Trask prowled closer. I could feel the crackle of his magic in the air mimicking the electricity from the storm. My own power felt raw and brittle in my chest, but I ignored the warning signs in favor of eyeing the last of my enemies.

My mother’s warning seemed to echo in the howling winds and rain around me. “Storms will always come when you call, but you must always be prepared to pay the price for such power.”

 _Aria,_ Stryker said, distracting me from the past. He sounded closer now, but I knew instinctively it would be hours before he was close enough to help. _You need to break the connection, love. I can feel it draining you. Let it go._

I leaned my head back to stare at the dark sky above me and let the rain ease the fever running beneath my skin. The testing blast of magic against my shield distant and disconnected so I ignored it in favor of focusing on my creation. 

If I closed my eyes, I could practically paint the sky and storm around me in twisting lines of air currents and power, mixing and blending down to each individual particle. Like neurons sparking through some massive brain, it moved and shifted above me on a path that I only barely controlled. Already it was tearing through the outskirts of camp and I could feel the blank spaces that indicated where debris and bodies were thrown through the air.

My magic threaded in and out of the massive storm in bright flashes of near-translucent blues and greys. If I concentrated, I could see the spooling power moving away from me into the heart of the hurricane in spider web-thin lines. It tangled around me, somewhere between pulling me into the winds or crushing me to the earth.

 _Aria!_ His voice sounded stronger now and I wondered if that meant he’d begun to cross the channel. The link was open enough that I knew he could sense my plans even before I acknowledged him. I wondered if he could taste the despair flooding me. _Don’t you dare--_

Whatever he would have said was drowned out by the white hot power ripping through my shields like paper and throwing me back into the muddy earth. Trask pressed his advantage, sending another bolt into the flimsy shield I hastily constructed. The attack sent me tumbling into Jace’s side and I felt furious tears at the reminder of all I’d lost. The temptation to just lay down and stay there with him. To give up and let the storm take what it needed to finish this for me.

Then my eyes landed on the packet of antidote that Jace had given everything for and knew what my choice had to be.

I rolled on my hands and knees and doggedly got to my feet. Hands. Knees. Feet. I chanted each step to myself, beyond caring for grace or the power that steadily drained away. 

Trask loomed like the predator he was, pacing and waiting for the opportunity to send me back into the earth. We both knew I wouldn’t get up a third time.

My fingers brushed across the familiar smooth grain of my glaive and I clutched it gratefully. It steadied me as I stood on trembling legs and faced Trask once more. The general looked wild-eyed and furious in a way that made me smile, slow and mocking.

“Now,” I crooned over the screaming winds, “let me teach you what it means to lose everything.”

He spat furiously, his power fluctuating around him like a hissing cat. “There’s no way you’ll walk away from this. You can barely stand, let alone fight.”

“I don’t plan to walk away from this, but neither will you.”

This time when he moved forward, I was ready. The hilt of the glaive took the brunt of the hit and I felt the wood creak beneath my palm, splintering with the blow. I spun away the worst of it and sent a slashing burst of wind at his leg. The movement made the world feel like it was spinning around me, going pale and grey at the edges. I shook my head blearily to try to focus against the price of my revenge.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I could hear Stryker screaming, pleading with me to stop, but I knew the moment to turn back was long past. 

_I’m sorry,_ I murmured.

Without hesitating, I reached up into the mass of wind and lightning above, searching for the bright flashes of violent heat and light. Trask was screaming something at me as the shields that blocked us from the worst of the storm collapsed, but I ignored him. Another attack knocked the glaive from my shaking hands and I heard the snap of it splitting in two from the force. Magic struck like a blow against my chest, sizzling my skin, but I just gritted my teeth and waited. 

There was so little magic left for my to use that I felt every drop like a raw brand against my skin, seeping deep into my bones until it was all I could focus on. I wanted to curl into the cool rain and sleep and sleep, but I forced myself to push through it. If this was to be my last battle, I intended to ensure I left none of my enemies standing. 

Electricity sizzled across the clouds above us and I waited until I could smell the ozone and impending violence before I reached up and _pulled._

For a moment, nothing happened.

Trask took a triumphant step towards me, hands outstretched with orange fire and--

The world went white and blinding. 

When I could open my eyes again, it was to the churning grey and green of the storm clouds. Mud and water slicked into my skin and hair, cementing me to the earth. The pain in my body was distant now, muted like it was miles away. My mind seemed to float somewhere beyond my reach. Listing along with the winds that soothed the sweat from my brow. It felt like a siren’s song. A call to close my eyes and fly away to some unknown space beyond my understanding.

The pull on my magic was softer now. Teasing instead of tormenting--like it knew there was nothing left of the bright light that kept me alive.

I gathered my fragmented thoughts and turned inwards, searching for the last piece of light in my soul and huddling close to the scent of jasmine and night winds. The instant sensation of love and happiness from him felt odd against the stinging panic from the realization that I was dying.

 _Hold on for me, love,_ Stryker crooned. The rush of affection feeding steadily through the fading bond soothed some of the ragged edges of grief. This time I knew it wasn’t distance keeping the mating bond from working and I held on a little tighter to it. _I’m coming, I swear. I’ll find you and keep you safe. You just have to hold on a little longer._

 _I’m sorry,_ I whispered again. My chest began to ache with the effort of filling my lungs.

His voice went raw and pleading. _Please, Aria. Just hold on--everything will be okay. Just stay awake a little longer and I’ll be there with you._

Slowly, my eyes drifted closed, unable to focus on the dizzying movement around me. With the last of my strength, I clutched at our bond like a lifeline.

 _I wanted...to keep my promise to you,_ I breathed. _I’m sorry._

Then there was nothing but an endless night sky.


	25. Chapter 25

I drifted.

The pain and grief that kept me anchored to whatever was left of my body seemed far away now. It was easier just to let myself float along in the cool, empty space that I found myself in. 

Occasionally, a noise, a voice, was enough to drag in the fragmented pieces of who I was before I fell apart. For a moment, I would be Aria again. Aria with blood on her hands and failure looming like a noose around her neck. Then the slow fade back into nothingness was a relief.

I wondered why I wasn’t dead yet. Or if I would be trapped in this empty space for the rest of eternity. Would Stryker look for me in the beyond only to find me missing there too?

Sometimes I imagined that someone lingered next to me, the warmth of their body a comfort against the vast darkness. Hands soothed the ragged, broken pieces of me and kept me centered against the steady pull to slip deeper into the night. I felt their presence like gravity, steady, implacable. Urging me back in the direction I’d come from. Unwilling to release me to disappear into the abyss.

Gradually that endless tug back, back, back to wherever and whoever I’d been before spread through my limbs like fire. I fought against the sensation, twisting and writhing helplessly. Crying out to the darkness for the same peace and emptiness that had been my companion for so long. Terrified to face the truths I knew faced me on the other side.

Golden light burst into being around me, turning my dark oasis into a wild starburst that ripped away the darkness and left me alone and exposed.

I opened my eyes and remembered.

Something rose up in my throat--a scream or vomit, I wasn’t sure--and I heaved in a desperate breath. The world around me felt washed out and strangely hollow. A perfect counterpart to my empty husk. The sudden movement drew the attention of the other inhabitants of the small room and I heard soft footsteps move eagerly closer.

I stared up at Talia and Ifrit’s pale, joyous faces and felt the tightness in my chest go painful and sharp. Whatever relief I felt at the sight of them healthy and whole was washed away with the misery of the empty space beside them where Jace was meant to stand.

It was inevitable, this failure. Racing toward me and my foolish, weak attempts to do something that would make up for all the blood I’d shed with the inevitability of a summer storm. Devastating. Scarring. 

I closed my eyes and saw Jace’s hand, outstretched in one final plea for me to save him. To make this right. To keep my promise. 

The image was so visceral that my eyes flew once more and a cold sweat broke out over my body. 

Talia said something, but I couldn’t hear over the rushing sound of anguish and pain that flooded my mind, trickling down my throat like cement and settling into my lungs like a sickness. The vise in my chest tightened until I could feel my vision begin to blur. A hysterical laugh bubbled up and was trapped behind gritted teeth at the thought that even with all my powers of wind and storm, I couldn’t reach for the air to breathe. 

My magic was nothing but an empty chasm splitting my soul. Broken beyond repair. 

My eyes burned and I forced that yawning chasm of pain and grief down deep, past the tiny fragments of my heart. I couldn’t fall apart now. Not until I knew everything. 

Clearing my throat, I tried to force my face into a mask of calm. “How long have I been out?”

Ifrit was standing near the door now, but I couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t face the sight of her grief, her judgement at the decision that had cost us all Jace. Or worse, her pity.

This was all my fault. 

My breathing was ragged despite my steady voice and I tried to hear past the thunder of my pounding heart for Talia’s response. 

“Take it easy,” she soothed quietly, tucking the blankets more securely around me and politely ignoring the way my hands were shaking. It must have been bad if she wasn’t laying into me already. “You need to give your body time to rest. You’ve been out for almost a month.”

“A month?!” My voice cracked on the last word. Stupidly, all I could think was that I was supposed to meet Stryker before the month was out. That the new tattoo inked behind my ear to mark that promise would have disappeared by now--yet another piece of my soul gone. I instinctively clamped down on my shields so my magic wouldn’t spill out, then froze. Horror shot through me and I grabbed Talia in a stupidly weak grip, “It’s gone. My magic is gone.”

Talia went pale, but none of her worry bled into her voice, “You burned yourself out when you...when you fought Trask. You were barely alive when we found you - it’ll take time to come back.”

Some primal instinct buried in the recesses of my broken mind scrabbled for the icy numbness it felt moments before and shoved the panic and grief and anger away. 

I wondered if it would fill the gaping wound left behind by my mate bond and my magic. 

Gone gone gone gone gone gone

The sensation was nothing compared to the malicious voice that whispered in my ear, “You deserve this. You should always be alone.”

A gentle hand reached out to stroke over my feverish skin, but I flinched so hard that they retreated. Good--I didn’t deserve to be comforted. Their voices washed over me like a silent wind, meaningless and empty. I rolled on my side away from Talia and stared blankly at the wall in front of me. After a while, my treasonous lungs eased into a familiar rhythm and I listened to the sound of footsteps retreating from the room.

I wished the silence would smother me.

But, like most of my plans, I remained painfully conscious.

Slowly I opened my eyes to stare up at the ceiling and counted the scarred wooden slats without blinking until my mind was blank again.

“Aria?” Talia whispered, sounding more shaken than I’d ever heard her. I tried not to start in surprise. I’d thought I was alone again.

I didn’t answer. 

It was a long, long time before I spoke again. 

____________________________________________

Time passed slowly, interspersed with fitful sleep and endless rounds of nightmares.

That dark space was beyond my reach now, but it remained a haunting presence. Eating away at Jace’s abandoned body; leeching away Talia’s power; smothering Ifrit’s exhausted strength.

I couldn’t decide if that was better or worse than the dreams of Stryker standing just out of reach, watching me fail over and over and over again.

Ifrit and Talia took turns sleeping in a small pallet they’d arranged beside my cot. Dark circles marred the smooth skin of their faces and I could see the way grief had aged them in just a short time. Sometimes that was enough to keep me conscious and present in the moment as they rambled on and on everything that had happened since I’d destroyed the camp.

“One of the scouting groups managed to escape Crissen’s men,” Talia said over a steaming mug of chicken broth. “They’re mostly rookies, but they’re learning quickly enough.”

Merric and Vaughn stole away some of the horses before the sweep. We were able to use them to get you and the rest of the wounded away from the ship when we landed in Prythian, Ifrit signed, her movements slower than usual in an attempt to keep my unfocused eyes on them.

They were careful not to mention Jace or what had happened in camp.

“Kai, one of the scouts, is a passable illusionist. He managed to keep Ifrit’s wings out of sight long enough for us to slip past the Court’s outer defenses. We’ve been using him to keep us out of sight from the patrols.”

“We got lucky and found an abandoned temple to make camp in while you….while everyone recovered. It won’t last forever, but we’re as safe as we can be for now.”

Aria, Ifrit signed with a somber expression on her scarred face. We need you. Come back to us.

_________________________________________________

Despite the way time seemed to slip on a continuing stream around me inert body, I always knew when night fell. 

Beside me, I’d listen to the steady rise and fall of my closest friends’ breath and find myself drifting into a pale mimicry of the stillness of death. No matter how hard I fought it, my mind would drag itself far far away from the quiet, dull room where I remained still and silent. 

In my dreams, I always saw him. 

It was the sweetest kind of torture to see, but not touch the other half of my soul. Words were smothered with distance and no matter how close I stood, that dark head never turned my way. I could never decide if this was just one more nightmare left behind by what I’d lost or if I was truly seeing what was happening with my mate. 

The first night began as any nightmare would: in the army camp. Only this time, instead of the familiar rows of tents, the ground was scarred and freckled with the debris left behind by the storm I’d birthed. None of the scrubby trees that surrounded the camp survived the storm and the land felt exposed without their meager shade to cut through to barren landscape. Their branches and roots tumbled here and there where the winds dropped them, frozen in their weak attempts to stand against the wind’s fury. If I peered closer I could make out the pale skin of outstretched and tangled limbs in the midst of the carnage, gleaming wetly in the weak sunlight overhead. 

I looked out over the field and felt nothing but aching emptiness. There was no regret left in me to spare for the place that had been my home for decades or the casualties left behind. 

I knew what waited for me only a few yards away. My steps felt weak and unsure as I turned like a marinette toward the broken body laying in the small shelter I’d created too late. Jace. 

I wondered if part of my punishment would be to stand guard over his cold body every night until he disappeared into the earth and winds. 

When I found him, I felt my steps falter at the small group of people standing silently around the bodies of Crissen and Trask. None of them spared any attention for the swollen, blackened corpse of Hybern’s general or his favored warrior. Even without the pale armor, their bright blonde hair and pale skin marked them as outsiders in the grassy plains of Hybern. My heart gave a sluggish leap of relief when I recognized the dark haired male crouched protectively over the only human lying among the fallen fae. 

Instinctively, I moved forward. My footfalls made no sound as I padded through the grass on bare feet. The other fae made no motion that indicated they saw me despite how closely I passed in front of them. I ignored them—too focused on the sight of Stryker kneeling with his shoulders bowed in defeat. 

When I got closer, I could see the shattered pieces of my glaive cradled protectively in his arms and sucked in a surprised breath. He looked devastated, broken in a way the sat oddly on his charismatic features. Green eyes remained fixed on the destruction around like he was trying to find me in that ruination. Maybe he was right. One hand reached out to press his hand to Jace’s chest, just over where his heart had beat its last beat in a silent goodbye that made tears spring to my eyes. 

Gently, I stretched one hand to brush away the damp strands of hair away from his face but flinched when a voice called behind me, “We need to leave. They will be sending reinforcements soon to try to recover the supplies and bodies.”

I stared at the blonde female who’d spoken and recognized her from the ambush in winter. Sympathy had turned the pale blue of her eyes to liquid and I stiffened when she moved closer to rest a hand on Stryker’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, Stryker...we can’t risk being found here.”

Slowly, he nodded, fingers tightening around the scarred wood still in his hands. “We’re taking Jace.”

“We can’t—“ she began but Stryker glared at her, eyes wild. 

“He doesn’t deserve to rot here with the rest of these monsters.” He swallowed hard, eyes falling to Jace’s body. When he spoke again, his voice was raw emotion, “If I can’t bury my mate, then I won’t let her sacrifice be in vain.”

Vivianne sighed but nodded. She turned to say something to the males behind her and I felt the world tilt oddly beneath my feet—

I opened my eyes to the familiar stained wood of my ceiling and the sensation of tears drying on my cheeks. 

______________________________________

After that, the dreams came more regularly. 

Sometimes it was just impressions. The familiar lunch of a ship at sea. The biting wind off the coastline. The sharp scent of snow and pine. 

Other nights I would catch glimpses of Stryker leaning over a seemingly endless stack of papers, his brow furrowed in a mix of concentration and exhaustion to the muffled tune of revelry outside his door. Or standing still and silent on the parapet of some great city with his eyes trained on some distant horizon like a shadowed sentinel. 

On those nights, I would curl whatever wraith-like image of myself created in these dreams as close as I could and watch the play of light against the smooth planes of his face. I wondered if he missed me. If he was drowning in the same regret that left me gasping for breath and shivering in a tightly coiled ball at the slightest trigger. 

I never spoke. Maybe I was afraid of what he might say back. 

____________________

In the few moments where I was left alone, I prodded at the empty space where my magic once glimmered like captured starlight. Sometimes I imagined that I felt a hint of power lingering there, but it faded into whisps at the faintest touch. The space seemed to crackle with a static electricity that sparked away to nothingness each time I touched it. 

I wasn’t sure how Talia had managed to keep me alive without magic. It was meant to be impossible for our kind and yet here I lay. Without it, I was vulnerable as any human. With it, I was just another monster. I wasn’t sure which option was better. 

Wondering over my missing magic was much easier than touching the fraying strands that was all that was left of my mate bond. I wasn’t brave enough to look at the skin where my bargain tattoos were meant to be. 

A week passed.

Then another.

Fifteen days after I’d awakened in the tiny room, I listened to Talia step out of the room to respond to the call of an unfamiliar voice and gathered up my brittle strength. I was panting by the time I’d pulled back the thin blankets tucked around me and pushed myself into a sitting position. My head pounded angrily at the effort, but I ignored it. 

I couldn’t keep pretending I died on that field--not when the choice would drag Ifrit and Talia down with me.

My friends were stubborn and loyal down to their marrow. Even if I hadn’t been with them for years, the tireless way they’d remained at my side these last weeks meant they wouldn’t retreat easily. I needed to get them to safety before I let myself fall apart.

Until then, I had to keep moving.

The weeks of bedrest coupled with damage left behind by the fight left me pale and shaking on the bed like a newborn colt. I clenched my fist and scowled at the new lines of scarring across my chest and arms. With a deep breath, I traced one finger over the lines of the windrose tattooed on my chest, faded now but still clear.

Their presence meant Stryker was still alive and I felt some of the tightness in my chest ease. One less thing to worry about.

With a grunt, I swung my legs off the bed and braced myself for the effort it would take to get to my feet. The armor I’d worn to the fight was long gone and I felt bare and vulnerable in the thin cotton shirt and pants they’d put me on. Clothes first, I reasoned mentally, then I could talk to the others.

It took an embarrassing amount of time to walk to the edge of the room where Talia and Ifrit left their packs. My muscles were trembling by then and I could feel sweat soaking the material of my clothes. I ignored it. I could rest after I spoke to the others and made a plan for where we could go next.

Where could we hope to find a safe place for a traitorous legion and their broken leader?

The answer was as obvious as it was insane. 

My mind picked away at the question endlessly. Prythian wouldn’t accept us into their ranks even if Stryker managed to warn the High Lords of Amarantha’s plot. Hybern was just as likely to burn as at the stake as welcome us back and I couldn’t risk the king recognizing the true nature of the power I’d used. I wasn’t ready to go back to being a weapon controlled by another.

I’d just managed to pull on a pair of pants when the door opened and I heard Talia suck in a surprised breath. Without giving her a chance to speak, I spoke up, “Tell the others to gather. We need to plan our next step.” Even to my own ears, my voice sounded hoarse and rough—too full of screaming to sing. 

She hesitated, eyes dark and gleaming wetly in the sunlight, but nodded. Her hands clenched around the wooden door for a moment before she spun on her heel and moved out of sight.

The respite gave me enough time to catch my breath and, slowly, make my way out of the small room that had become the center of my new world and into the larger room beyond. A glance proved that the temple Talia had mentioned was little more than a shack. New wood gleamed in a few places on the roof in the areas they must have repaired to keep the rain out. It wasn’t fancy enough to have any windows, but I caught sight of bright green foliage and lush undergrowth when the door opened to usher in a mismatched group of fae.

I had to close my eyes against the rush of memories left behind by the last time I was in the Spring Court. This time there would be no teasing kisses or fragile promises for the future.

“Aria?” Talia murmured, her worry evident. “You should sit.”

Briefly, I considered refusing for pride’s sake, but my legs were already trembling with effort. Better to sit down than fall over in front of my broken squad. I took the offered seat and scanned the faces around me.

Some were familiar. Talia and Ifrit lingered on either side of me, eyes sharp and ready for anything that might send me tumbling back into silence. At the doorway, Merric watched the proceedings with the familiar sardonic twist to his lips. He looked like he’d rather be out with his precious horses. 

The rest were less certain. Two broad shouldered males on my left watched me with the same curiosity and wariness I remembered from the Arena crowds. Another lounged indolently nearby, smiling cheerfully as he munched on some kind of apple. 

He waved the half eaten fruit in greeting. “Glad to see you up and about.”

“Watch your tone, Kai,” Talia snapped. 

I watched the male with new interest. “You’re the illusionist?”

“Indeed I am,” he said with a smug smile directed at the bristling female at my side. “I’m also the fae that dragged you out of that storm and got you to the boat.”

My expression faltered for a moment before I dragged it back under my control. Suddenly the weight of all the eyes on me felt like acid against my skin and I dug my nails into the muscles of my thighs to ground myself. I tried to remember if I saw Kai during the fight but all my mind produced was endless winds and rain. And Jace.

“How did you manage that?”

Ifrit stepped forward before he could launch himself fully into the tale. Her hands moved quickly, He wasn’t with the other scouts so he avoided being caught up with the rest of the Legion by glamouring himself to appear as one of their soldiers. 

My eyes narrowed on him. “Why stay for the battle? Why not run while you had the chance?”

Kai’s spine straightened and, for the first time, I could see the warrior lurking beneath the lackadaisical attitude. “Vaughn ordered me to find you. He knew the storm was your doing and knew you’d need the help.”

“And where is Vaughn?” I asked, eyes already scanning the room for Merric’s partner and my quartermaster. The answer was revealed in the way Merric abruptly turned and exited the house and the somber silence. 

“Dead with the others,” Talia murmured. “He managed to get Merric out with some supplies with enough time to warm those who were out of the camp.”

I closed my eyes in silent prayer for the gods to guide Vaughn to a warrior’s eternity and in gratitude for his sacrifice. My voice was still raw with that grief when I said, “Are there any other survivors?”

A heavy silence fell and I watched their gazes drop to the stone floor. 

“A better question is how to keep ourselves alive when we’re knee-deep in enemy territory,” a tawny haired female said from where she was leaning against the wall. “We can’t stay in Spring with wat brewing.”

“Katrina’s right,” Talia said. “We’ve lingered here too long.”

“Maybe we can go to one of the High Lords and offer our services,” Katrina offered. 

Ifrit made a derisive sound. And trade one war for another? They’re just as likely to kill us as the king is. 

The room fell into a series of grumbling arguments as each of the fae gathered tried to argue for the side we should join. My head throbbed. When the sound reached a crescendo, I stood, letting the shriek of the chair across stone cut through their voices.

“We aren’t going back to Hybern,” I said flatly and waited until all of their eyes focused on me. “And we will not fight in Prythian’s war with Amarantha. We’ve shed enough blood for their cause.”

“Aria…” Talia whispered softly, her arm outstretched towards me in an aborted gesture. 

“Where else can we go?” Katrina demanded, “We can’t stay in these woods forever. It’s only luck that’s kept us from being caught so far.”

Kai sniffed. “And skill.”

I ignored their bickering to finally look up and meet the last members of my Core’s eyes. “We’re going over the Wall,” I said simply and stiffly got to my feet. “Be ready at dawn or be on your way.”

There was a moment of stunned silence before the room seemed to dissolve into confused whispers.

I didn’t bother to explain myself further--if these soldiers wanted to continue following me, it would be their choice. There was no room in my heart for any pleas for loyalty or inspiring speeches. Already my body was aching for the comfort of the bed that had become my home for the last weeks. With barely a pause, Ifrit and Talia’s familiar footsteps fell into step behind me and I could feel the weight of their gazes on my back.

When we stepped into the simple bedroom, I made myself busy digging through the packs laid out there while I waited for them to speak. It didn’t take long.

“Do you think this is...wise?” Talia asked delicately, the gentleness in her voice grating. “Your body is still recovering.”

“If there are any horses left tomorrow, I’ll ride in,” I said. I wasn’t sure if Merric would bother to stay in our unit without Vaughn to ground him. The two hadn’t been true mates, but their bond was just as strong as. His grief was palpable in every line of his body and my heart ached in sympathy. “We can’t stay here forever.”

“There is no guarantee we could survive in the human world.”

“It’s better than anything Prythian or Hybern can offer,” I countered implacably. “The only good thing to come out of Trask’s scouting missions is that we know where the Wall is weakest and can slip over before anyone knows any better. No one will risk hunting us there with a war on the horizon.”

Ifrit exchanged a glance at Talia and slowly nodded her agreement. It’s better than remaining fugitives here.

Talia didn’t look convinced. “Aria...we don’t know what will happen to your magic if you cross over. It might keep you from healing fully.”

The thought was a twisting knife in my gut. For a moment, I had to look away from their too-knowing eyes and toyed with the fraying hem of my sleeve. Finally, I murmured with a voice gone rough with regret, “I knew what I was giving up the moment I summoned the storm. It will be worth it if I can keep all of you safe.”

There was another heavy pause where I was too overwhelmed to watch the play of emotions on their faces.

“What about Stryker?” The question startled me enough to make me flinch and look up at Talia. Her lips were pursed into a tense line that betrayed how much that question had cost her, but she refused to back off. “If you leave Prythian, your bond with him will be too thin for you to reach out to each other--you’ll be as good as dead to him.”

I clenched my teeth hard enough that my jaw ached. “He chose his side. I won’t try to drag him from it. Besides, the bond disappeared with my magic.”

The words tasted like acid on my lips and I saw Talia wince.

What will we do among the humans? Ifrit signed after a few beats of silence.

The question was simple enough to distract me from the agony in my chest. “When we were scouting the wall, we found a few areas where naga and the like could make their way into the mortal lands. I say we make ourselves useful by hunting down fae creatures. I’d be willing to bet we could make a decent profit keeping them away from civilization.”

Good enough for me, Ifrit signed with a small smile. It’d be nice to hunt monsters instead of fighting beside them for once.

We both turned to Talia who slowly nodded. “This is the craziest plan I’ve ever agreed to, but like hell I’d let you two go off and try it alone.”

I nodded and felt something fractured settle into my chest at the stubborn support. “Then it’s settled--we cross the Wall and don’t return until the war is over.”

END OF PART I


	26. Chapter 26

Fifty Two Years Later  
The Mortal Lands

 

An ear splitting roar trumpeted through the trees, sending plumes of startled birds into flight. Rabbits and other prey animals huddled in their makeshift shelters, too frightened to run. Even the trees felt meek and brittle in the sharp autumn winds as the monster lurking in their midst shrieked another challenge directed at the creatures foolish enough to encroach in its domain. 

It was clear that whatever lurked in the shadows there was not of this earth.

“Dramatic little beastie, isn’t it?” Katrina murmured from her vantage point in the trees nearby. She didn’t bother to raise her voice above a whisper--between the sounds of the nue and our own heightened senses there was no need. Her dark leathers and bow blended almost seamlessly into the elm branches she was perched in. 

The sickly sweet scent of rot was carried toward us on a weak breeze signalling its approach. It felt like the ground itself roiled in disgust at the abomination that had made its home in this quiet forest. The nue moved through the woods like a sickness, leaching the life from anything it touched and slowly killing everything in its path with little remorse. No one would grieve for its passing here. Those left in its wake no longer had the breath to scream out their pain and helplessness.

The villagers nearby were lucky that our reputation for monster hunting had spread as far it did. Left unchecked, the nue would eat away at every piece of their livelihood--before it began to claim their children and every living creature in their homeland. It was one of the nastier beasts we’d encountered in the Mortal Lands over the last few decades living among the humans and I would’ve gladly seen it dead even without the pittance the villagers offered in payment.

“Kai and Ifrit will keep it moving this way,” I said quietly. My eyes remained fixed on the trees that would soon give way to our prey. “Remember: you’re to keep the nue in the woods. If it tries to run for the village, head it off and send it back my way. We don’t need anymore casualties.”

She snapped a sarcastic salute and moved further into the thick foliage. I didn’t bother to watch her make her way to her post--Katrina had proven herself to be a quick and clever fighter over the years. I trusted her to do what was needed to ensure this day ended with one monster dead and no injuries from our group.

In her absence, my even breathing sounded unnaturally loud in the silence and I let my hands run over the smooth wood of my new glaive. Though the shaft of the weapon was made of thick ironwood, if I concentrated, I could feel the veins of ashwood traveling through it to curve into the specially crafted blade like a cancer. Some primitive instinct told me to flee from the material that could end my existence, but I was used to ignoring the urge. Instead, I stood silently in the center of a small clearing and waited. Humanity had learned well from their time as slaves to my kind and had the weapons to show for it.

Besides, ashwood really was the easiest way to rid the world of another monster.

Within a few moments, the sound of several sets of running footsteps and bodies crashing through the brush distracted me from my thoughts. Thin white tailed deer rushed past, the whites of their eyes rolling in panic as they fled mindlessly from the predator on their heels. Their fear was great enough that they barely made an effort to avoid me as they streamed past. In their midst, I caught sight of a few foxes, field mice, and rabbits racing underfoot. They didn’t pause at the sight of me, just continued running towards safety.

In the distance, I heard the scream of a rabbit who ran too late and winced when it cut off abruptly. The smell of decomposition was overwhelming now and I ran my fingers over the weapons buckled around my waist and thighs. Their presence was a familiar reminder of what I was here to do and the blood I would spill to keep the land and people I’d claimed safe.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, I heard the sharp whistle that signaled the nue’s approach from Ifrit and widened my stance in preparation. When the creature stepped free from the shadows of the forest, I felt my stomach give an involuntary lurch of disgust.

The nue was truly a creature ripped straight from the nightmares of the darkest fae. Rumors persisted that they were created as a guardian of the old temples dedicated to blood and pain or a creature of endless hunger sent to devastate your enemies. Looking at it face to face for the first time, I found myself agreeing with the old legends.

Unnaturally long limbs moved with eerie fluidity as it picked its way across the forest floor. Its arms supported the upper half of its body while shorter legs propelled it forward in an apelike movement. Skin gleamed wetly in the dappled light and revealed patterns that mimicked the gnarled bark of the trees that hid its shape. Weak shafts of sunlight revealed the true horror of its visage in the jagged lumps of flesh that ran along the ridges of its spine down to its chest and arms. It wasn’t until one of the odd shapes spasmed independently of the main body that I understood what I was looking at. 

The bodies of its victims.

Now I could make out the tawny fur of the rabbit who’d been snatched up a few minutes before; its eyes and limbs still flinching with the need to escape the slow digestion process. A broken antler rose up out of one muscular shoulder while an awful mixture of rotting skeletons and half-eaten corpses. At its feet, the grass withered and curled into the brittle brown strands. I could practically see the limbs of the trees above it twisting out of its reach in a futile effort to avoid its poisonous touch. 

All of this was ignored by the nue when the dark, gaping holes where its eyes should rest twisted to view me. I could feel its hunger like a sickening caress over my skin. There was no acknowledgement of the weapon still held loosely in my grasp. It mouth opened into a gaping maw, exposing rows of jagged and rotting teeth in a gut wrenching smile. Its dark tongue curled out of its mouth to taste the air like it was scenting the power beneath my skin. 

I bared my teeth in a snarl of my own, waiting until I was sure it was focused on me before I spun on my heel and ran into the trees.

This time the nue rushed forward with enough speed that I felt myself hard pressed to maintain the distance I need to keep it on my trail but out of reach of its magic. It was obvious that whatever sustenance it gathered from feeding on the wildlife here would be nothing compared to the flesh of the high fae of its homeland. I wondered how long it had been wandering through the Mortal Lands wreaking havoc. It screamed a hunting cry that sounded like the bugle of an elk and raised the hairs on the back of my neck in instinctive panic.

Focusing on the ground beneath my feet, I backtracked along the trail we’d carefully marked hours before. I ran. The nue didn’t bother for subtlety as he ripped his way through the trees and brush in his pursuit. It was still far too close for comfort and I forced more speed into my legs as I leapt over a meandering stream and headed west.

A small explosion behind me and a shriek of rage told me one of the others had released one of the traps they’d set to help slow the beast down and I felt a surge of pleasure at the sound. Everything was going according to plan.

That optimism died a quick death when a piece of a fallen log was hurled at my legs and I went tumbling into the damp earth. Clever creature. Whatever idiot who’d created the nue clearly hadn’t wanted it to be an easy foe. I rolled hard and scrambled to my feet, the fetid breath on the back of my neck enough to tell me how close to death I’d been. 

“Move it, Ari!” Kai’s voice called out from somewhere to my left and I felt the warm brush of an illusion briefly covering my progress from the monster on my heels. I didn’t have the breath to thank him for the quick save. Instead, I listened to the nue bellow in rage at its prey disappearing and rake ragged claws down the thick tree trunk nearest him.

I used the opening to race back to the path we’d set and add some much needed distance. I knew the moment Kai’s magic wore off when another bone rattling roar shattered the relative silence of the woods.

“Thirty seconds!” I shouted between breaths and slid behind a massive oak to avoid another swipe of claws.

Ahead of me the last line of trees stood like prison bars between myself and freedom. This was the most difficult part of our plan and the most hotly contested. Katrina and Kai were always prone to recklessness and eager to prove themselves as capable warriors while Ifrit and Talia remained tempered by their years in the field. Often it came down to my vote to break the tie between the two groups and this mission was no different--even if I did insist on taking on the role with the most risk. Talia had been so livid she’d stormed out and returned to camp late into the night. It was probably a good thing it was her turn to stay at camp on guard duty.

Now I forced myself to use all of the speed and endurance I’d regained over the last decades to sprint ahead into the muddy clearing beyond. The water we’d diverted from the nearby river had turned the ground to mush and I felt the burn of tired muscles as I slipped and skidded through it. Behind me, the nue made a triumphant sound and leapt forward, eating up the distance between us in two bounds.

“Bows!” I yelled even as I brought my glaive up to block the slash of claws aiming for my midsection. My feet sank into the mud to brace against the attack. The maneuver was rewarded with a deep slice that severed two of its finger-like appendages and I tried not to gag at the smell of rancid blood spilling on the earth like acid. 

Almost immediately, I heard the whistle of bowstrings releasing and the sharp shriek of arrows cutting through the air. Something low in my stomach twisted violently in reaction to the sound--a visceral response I’d never been able to fully subdue even after all this time. The air around me crackled with enough electricity that the hairs on my arm rose and the sky above me rumbled in warning. Power, new and erratic, rushed through my veins eagerly.

The nue shrieked in pain as the ash arrows found their marks high on his chest. It stumbled, still fixated on the prey that must be responsible for its injuries. Lurching forward, it made a drunken grab for me with its uninjured hand that I easily stepped out of the way of. I didn’t bother with the fancy moves that had once earned me my reckoning in the Arena. Just brought the blade up in a deep cut that spilled dark, oily blood into the mud and a choked off cry from its ruined throat.

With a grunt of air that stank of rot and ruined life, the nue collapsed into the earth and lay still. Already I could feel its tainted magic dissipating into the air and earth around it. I rested the blade of my glaive in the muddy water to wash away the worst of the blood and watched the rest of my team slowly make their way out of their hiding places.

A high flush of excitement was riding Kai’s cheeks as he loped out of the trees towards me. Katrina and Ifrit followed at a more sedate pace at his heels. He grinned cheerfully and looped an arm over my shoulders, “Nicely done, oh fearless leader.”

“Thanks for your help back there,” I said, smiling a little at his excitement. Kai’s personality often reminded me of the stray mutts that wandered around the camp, eager for food and attention, and it had taken time to get used to the easy way he touched those he considered his friends. Oddly, I’d begun to crave the short moments of contact despite the niggling voice in the back of my head that still ached for the male that remained firmly in my past. “You’re getting better at keeping an illusion in place with distractions.”

Kai tossed a soft smile toward Ifrit and shrugged, “I’ve been getting practice keeping our lovely Illyrian under wraps.”

Truly we would never have managed to blend in as a band of mercenaries without Kai’s ability to cloak the worst of our fae traits from curious humans. Ifrit, especially, would have been forced to remain hidden from sight in case someone caught sight of her massive wings. 

Flattery won’t get you out of dish duty for breaking your position, Ifrit signed without any heat. Don’t think I didn’t see you edging closer to the fight.

“I can’t let Aria have all the fun!” he protested half-heartedly and I rolled my eyes. I seemed to be surrounded by over protective team mates.

Katrina nudged the rapidly decomposing nue with the toe of her boot, her lip curled at the overwhelming stench of wet earth and rotting flesh. “I hope they didn’t ask for the head for proof. This smells like--”

Whatever she would have said was cut off by the bone-deep sensation of power building in the air around us. Power like nothing I’d ever felt rose through the air like a tide, crashing into the invisible barrier that remained just over the horizon in gut-wrenching waves. I threw up a hand instinctively to form a clear shield over us as the trees shivered and swayed in reaction to the magic that felt so tangible it was a wonder we couldn’t see it threading through the air.

“What’s happening?” Kai shouted over the throbbing notes of power that thundered like blood in our ears.

Ifrit exchanged a wide eyed look at me. I swallowed hard, voice weak with disbelief, “The Wall...it’s--”

With an earth shattering boom, the magic released and I felt the moment the world changed.

A rippling wave of wind and excess power that tasted like ash and promised ruin raced across the plains toward us, buffeting my shield and sending the woods into a cacophony of unnatural noise. I gritted my teeth at the force behind it and I could feel Kai tightening his grip on my shoulders to brace me.

Then there was nothing but silence.

Panting slightly, I released my hold on the shield and took stock of the fae around me. “Status?”

Fine, Ifrit signed shortly, eyes still on the woods that had sheltered the Wall’s edge for so long.

“I’m good,” Katrina said.

Kai grimaced and shook his head in disbelief. “I may need a change of pants but I’m good.”

“Good.” Satisfied that there were no serious issues here, I leaned down to pick up one of the massive, blood stained claws I’d cut off the nue and gestured for them to move. “Let’s regroup with the others and see if anyone knows what the hell is going on.”

________________________________________________________

Hours later it was obvious that our brief respite from fae drama and violence in the Mortal Lands was finished.

Already magic pulsed and bloomed in the earth beneath our feet, awakening the ancient ley lines hidden in the rich soil below. My skin felt like it was burning with the need to reach deeper into the writhing mass of power in my core, but I shied away. Whatever had taken root after my burnout felt foreign and wild in a way that frightened me. It writhed with excitement and anticipation now, reaching desperately for the other half of my soul until I grappled it back into place. I couldn’t lose control now. Not after so long.

After so long without magic flowing all around us, its presence now was nearly overwhelming. It felt like we’d had one too many drinks as we stumbled into camp and confirmed that the others were safe.

The camp itself was little more than a collection of tents and a few wooden structures in the process of being erected for winter shelters. There was an uncomfortable similarity between it and the old army camps that no one liked to acknowledge. Instead, I could see the bright streak of red fabric sewn into the side of one of the tarps that marked Kai’s space and the flowers and wild herbs that Talia carefully cultivated outside of her own. We were careful to keep ourselves out of sight from any human towns unless we were on a job or needed to trade for supplies. 

“I sent the kid to scout out the barrier-” Talia said as soon as we moved past the wards and into camp. The youngest in our group, a tawny haired male named Seren, scowled at the moniker but didn’t protest. “-and the Wall is completely gone. There’s no sign of an attack, but this tastes of the king’s magic.”

The implications of those words was enough to cast a pall over the gathered fae.

There were only eight of us left from the twelve who’d escaped the slaughter years before. Four had gone their own way in the night before we’d made the journey over the Wall. It left me with Talia, Ifrit, Merric, and the rest of the rookies to build a new life in a foreign land where magic no longer flowed freely.

“Any sign of their army?” I asked. If the King of Hybern had ripped apart the Wall, it could only mean he intended to retake the human slaves of old.

She shook her head. “That’s the only good news so far. As it is, we are right in the marching path of where they’ll head as soon as they’ve taken Prythian.”

It was a reminder of all the politics and violence we’d left behind when we abandoned our homeland. We’d lost all ties that might have warned us the war was heading our way. For all we knew, the High Lords had fallen to the combined might of Amarantha and her king.

I tried not to think of what that might mean for Stryker’s attempts to stop Amarantha.

For the first time since I stepped past the Wall’s magic, I could feel the remnants of our bond hangly limply in my chest. My shakings fingers reached to touch the place where my bargain tattoo had faded into my skin in a familiar gesture of false comfort. I knew Talia and Ifrit were watching me with enough pity and understanding in their eyes that I was forced to clear my throat and look away. That part of me had disappeared the night we chose our sides. ***”hangly” should be “hanging?”***

I wasn’t ready to think about what might happen without the Wall blocking our bond.

Voice rough, I eyed the rest of my team. “We need to see what’s happened in our absence. Talia, Ifrit, and I will go into Spring and do reconnaissance-” Kai opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. “-Kai, I need you and Katrina to go into town and let them know the nue is dead. We may need the money sooner rather than later. The rest of you break down camp and be ready to move--this place isn’t safe for us anymore.”

Begrudgingly, they did as they were ordered, leaving me alone with Ifrit and Talia. I raked my fingers through my tangled hair and sighed weakly, “Guess we couldn’t run forever, huh?”

_____________________________________________

Stepping back into the Spring Court felt like walking through a dream. Here, the colors felt almost violently intense compared to the drab browns and greens of the human forests. Life bloomed everywhere and already I could feel the difference in the temperature and the purity of the air. 

Ifrit and Talia’s faces looked luminous and brighter than I’d seen in years as they took in the familiar sights. A bit of guilt burned low in my gut at the reminder of all that we’d lost. Here, magic seemed to sink into our skin and soothe the raw ache of living without. It came so easily that I felt light headed compared to the struggle of pulling magic among the mortals.

We didn’t bother with any kind of subtlety. The High Lord’s manor was close enough to the edge of the territory that we chose to go directly to the source for our information. It was reasonable to assume that the soldiers closest to the Tamlin would have the most up-to-date understanding of what had happened. We hoped to use the chaos from the Wall as a cover for our approach and gather as much information without catching Tamlin’s attention.

That assumption quickly fell by the wayside as soon as we stepped out of the treeline and onto the gravel walkway leading to the manor house.

The house looked like it had already seen a battle of some sort and I felt a thread of alarm that somehow we’d missed an army marching through the area. No guards came out to meet us or question why three ex-Hybernese soldiers were walking in their midst. Their absence was alarming enough that I found myself reaching down to run my palms over the smooth hilt of my blades. Ifrit caught my eye and nodded in the direction of the quiet stables. No horses waiting for their riders. The grounds themselves were beginning to become overgrown with trailing vines and the scattered remains of what must have been a rose garden.

“What happened here?” Talia murmured, her eyes on the pieces of a destroyed statuary laying across the walking path.

As though her words had summoned it, a vicious surge of power swept through the gardens. We fell back into a more defensive position instinctively, but I threw out a hand to keep them from going for their weapons. The might of the fae was enough to give away their identity and I had to wonder why the High Lord of Spring was alone in his abandoned home.

Over the rushing winds and crackling magic, I called out, “We aren’t here to fight! We need to speak to the High Lord!”

The rippling promise of violence around us seemed to hesitate before coalescing to form a broad shouldered man standing in the path before us. Hair like burnished gold hung in waves around a face that boasted the fair features. Green eyes snapped fury and a deep rooted anguish that I found myself empathizing with despite the situation. I recognized that look from the few times I’d caught sight of my own reflection after Hybern. 

Something had gone terribly wrong in the Spring Court.

“What do you want?” He growled and I felt Talia heave in an answering snarl at the challenge in his tone. His eyes flicked over her in a dismissive scan that made her bristle in fury before returning to me. 

I eased into a less defensive stance and kept my hands in plain sight, silently encouraging him to relax his own posture. It didn’t work. “I’m Aria,” I said and gestured to the others, “This is Ifrit and Talia. We’re looking for information.”

“Why would I help a Night Court fae and two mercenaries?” His tone was vicious enough that I internally sighed. Clearly, Tamlin had issues with the Night Court. Ifrit subtly stepped back as though to make her wings more unobtrusive. 

“We’ve been on the other side of the Wall among the mortals for decades,” I explained. “We felt it come down yesterday and wanted answers...or at least a warning if war is headed our way.”

He tilted his head in a feline movement to study us. “You’re the mercenaries that have been hunting down the creatures who slipped past the barrier.”

It was phrased like a question, but it was clear that the High Lord of Spring had heard of our work abroad. I wondered if it was a good thing.

“Yes,” I said. “We’ve hunted the worst of the beast that made it into the Mortal Lands...though we did not do it for any allegiance to Prythian or Hybern.”

“And yet your weapons carry the mark of Hybern.”

I glanced at Talia’s knives and Ifrit’s longsword in the corners of my eyes and shrugged. “We once fought under the King’s banner, but no longer. We had no interest in being pawns in a power-mad leader’s war so we left.”

“War is already upon us,” Tamlin replied and I could see the weariness weighing heavily across his broad shoulders. The rage that had his magic twisting around us uncomfortably ebbed into a deep sadness. He rubbed a hand over his face and gestured to the North. “The King of Hybern has recovered the Cauldron and marches against the combined might of the Prythian High Lords.” 

Talia made a curious sound, looking around the quiet manor grounds pointedly. “It does not appear you plan to march with them, High Lord--” Somehow she managed to make the title sound like an insult and I gave her a warning look that she ignored. “--or has Hybern already conquered the Spring Court?”

That awful power rose in the air around us again and I had to grit my teeth to keep my own magic from rising up in response. He took a threatening step forward and I slid between them in a practiced gesture, still avoiding my weapons. “Easy, High Lord. We aren’t your enemies.”

“Why in the Mother’s name should I believe you?” he snarled, eyes flashing.

“Because Hybern took everything from us. Everything,” I hissed and he hesitated at the vicious honesty in my voice. I swallowed hard and forced myself to continue, “We left to find something better here. All of that will mean nothing if the King succeeds in Prythian.”

Tamlin stared at me with eyes gone dark. Talia reached out gently and leaned her weight against me to ground me in the present.

I let all the pain and regret that swamped me anytime I stood still fill my eyes and watched him look down with his own understanding. “You can’t stand by while the King marches past, High Lord. He will take everything that is precious to you, destroy everything you have built, and when you have nothing left...then he’ll kill you.”

A silence that fell over the grounds while each of us wrestled the demons of past mistakes back into their cages. When he finally spoke, I nearly jumped at the sound of his gravelly voice breaking through the nightmare that was our final days in Prythian. 

“Will you fight then?” he asked. “Will you take a stand with Prythian to turn against your own people?”

I looked back at Talia and Ifrit, trying not to collapse under the weight of their unfailing faith. They would go back to the misery of battle if I asked it of them without pause. Would fight until their last breath for the cause and never hesitate to rip apart their souls bit by bit in my name. 

But I refused to watch another person I love die for me.

“We have spilled enough blood for another male’s ambition,” I murmured, “but we will aid your cause here and hold the line until you return.”

He considered that for a moment, eyes sharp on our worn leather and weapons. The assessing way we continued to wait for him to choose to be a friend or foe. Then he sighed again and nodded, “That’s more than I expected at this stage.” He stretched out a calloused hand to me that Talia took up instead.

The little healer raised her eyebrow at him and grinned, “We’ll keep your lands safe, pretty boy. You focus on winning the war.”

I tried not to groan at the look the two fae exchanged--part daring, part intrigued--and took a deep breath of fresh spring air. “Looks like we have a deal.”

Talia grinned and I thought I saw Tamlin gulp at the look in her eyes.


	27. Chapter 27

The dreams returned as soon as the Wall fell.

At first, I thought they were symptoms of being within the borders of Prythian once again. That my mind was conjuring up the images of a lost mate that I couldn’t be sure had survived Amarantha’s plots. Even that was enough to leave me restless and anxious, torn between the urge to hide behind my shields or rip them away to hunt down any signs of life at the end of that shimmering tie.

The dreams themselves were mirrors of the few I remembered from my time recovering. Cold. Barren. Confusing and lingering long past the early morning light. More than once, I found myself waking with fingers outstretched across the empty bed in some subconscious search for warm skin and a sleepy smile.

I couldn’t help but think that the memories they triggered might be the worst kind of torture.

After long days stalking the border that had once represented the safety of what was left of my family, I would close my eyes and awaken to a world of ice and snow. Any signs of the sadness that still clung to me like a sickness was washed away by the quicksilver grin and easy laughter of a dark haired male in his element among the pale Winter fae. The years apart had turned Stryker’s passion for his cause into a heady confidence that I could feel myself drawn to like a moth to flame. He looked steady and reassured in a way that I hadn’t witnessed in our weeks together. 

He was happy there.

Part of me hated him for that happiness. For looking like all the scars of our past had disappeared beneath the light and laughter of the taverns he seemed to frequent. Rarely did I see him alone or as haggard as he’d been before the world had fallen into war and I supposed that meant his choice to stay was worth it. Instead, he was traveling across the barren tundra of Winter or running through the woods with a team of scouts after an unseen prey. 

His role as a spy must have expanded to some kind of leadership position judging by how many fae and demi-fae trickled in and out of each meeting late in the night. I cataloged each clandestine meeting, every close call obscured by darkness, and each new scar darting across tawny skin exposed by the loose collar of his shirt and low slung pants. I hoped that meant that he was using his talents to finally aid the cause of his people and any surprise I felt at his continued stay in Winter was buried beneath the pleasure of seeing my mate doing everything he dreamed of. 

Hell was loving him in my sleep and waking up alone.

I’d given up pretending that the dreams were merely conjured up by my lonely subconscious. For one thing, there was no way I could think up all the details of each of his missions or constant meetings with various members of the Winter Court. Vivianne was there only occasionally, followed by two pale haired boys that favored her bright eyes and pale complexion. I could see the devotion binding Stryker and Vivianne together and I woke each morning after seeing them with the foul taste of jealousy in my mouth.

Thoughts of what each of these dreams meant for Stryker’s safety in Winter was a constant distraction. Amarantha might be dead, but spies were always free game for any soldier from Hybern. The King of Hybern would love for a chance to set his torturers on a troublesome Night Court fae far from home. Even if I couldn’t have him, I needed to know he was safe.

I was constantly at war with the need to bridge the distance between us. The choice to keep myself hidden behind the distance and damaged bond felt insipid and weak compared to the physical urge to get on my horse and ride north until the sun was smothered by frozen clouds and sharp winds. If it weren’t for the constant reminder of Stryker’s choice to separate and my own near-fanatic drive to watch over the last of my legion, I knew I would come crawling back to him sooner or later.

I could feel the weakness in my body left behind by the missing mate bond that was constantly reaching for its other half. The only thing that stopped me was the knowledge that Stryker had chosen his side the moment he stayed behind in Winter. He hadn’t wanted our bond enough to stay when I was a successful commander and a powerful mate to add to his skillset. There was no doubt in my mind that my broken, battered body and soul now would do nothing to change his mind now.

Maybe one day we could try again without the promise of war looming over us.

Maybe I deserved to spend the rest of my life pining for a male who didn’t want me.

It wasn’t until the night that I watched in mute, helpless horror as a leggy brunette led Stryker coyly back to his simple bedroom that I broke. Her clever fingers toyed with the ties of his shirt and he laughed huskily as she leaned forward to tease her mouth over the strong column of his neck. All I could focus on was that slow curl of his mouth, the stuttered sounds of their breaths in the quiet room, and the nausea that ripped through my gut. 

I didn’t remember waking up. I couldn’t seem to form any thought beyond the heartbroken keening noise that continued to spill from my throat. My brain played through the images over and over again until I felt like they were burned into my skin like a brand.

It wasn’t until I was out in the cool night air that I was able to form a thought beyond a repetitive refusal to believe what I’d seen. Tears burned bright furrows across my cheeks and I tilted my head toward the sky in a silent plea to force my body back under my control. My chest ached like a bruise and I rubbed a hand over my sternum like I could ignore the sensation of my heart breaking. I reached for some facsimile of anger to keep me upright, but all I could manage was a weak sort of bitterness.

Of course Stryker wouldn’t wait for me. He was young, in his prime, and he no longer had a mate to keep him from pursuing any other relationships. It’d been decades since we’d even seen each other--why should he continue to remain loyal to a memory?

I forced myself to breathe past the ache once. Twice. Again and again until my face was tacky with the residue of tears and my mind was hollow. 

Wordlessly, I turned back to the barracks and plodded back inside. The thought of returning to my bed and the dreams waiting to haunt me was unbearable so I passed by my door in favor of going to the last set of rooms on this hallway. 

If Talia was surprised to see me stumbling into her room in the early hours of morning, red-eyed and grieving, she didn’t comment. Her eyes widened a fraction before she opened the door a little wider and waved me inside. 

She opened her mouth to ask the question that I knew she wanted to say, but I only blurted out, “I need you to keep me from dreaming.”

_____________________________________________

It was easier then. 

Our ‘almost’ became as simple as eight words:

We were together once. I forget the rest.

______________________________________________________

Thirty Years Later  
Spring Court

“Get your arms in position, Brock!” My voice cut through the sounds of grunting exertion from the lines of fae in the training rink and the male in question scowled at his sparring partner. “Your laziness will get your throat slit on the battlefield.”

Kai grinned indolently from where he was sprawled along the slat fence at my side, watching the group. “Silly male thinks his brawn will be enough to keep him alive when he faces an actual opponent.”

I shot him a look and drawled, “You know, you could probably use the refresher too.”

“I didn’t slog my way through hell and back following you and your crazy friends just to sweat the day away with a bunch of rookies.” He managed to look offended at the very idea of having to step away from the shade into the ring.

Ifrit made a derisive snort next to us and her hands flicked through the air quickly, Bold of you to assume you aren’t still a rookie.

I never could figure out how she could make sign language look so sarcastic.

“Such a cruel beauty,” Kai crooned, one hand thrown over his chest dramatically. “How will I survive being around so many gorgeous warriors?”

You seem to be doing quite well for yourself judging by the long line of fae going in and out of your quarters every night. 

The illusionist’s smile was pure sin and I had to look away before the expression conjured up unwanted memories of another dark haired male. “I give the people what they want...perhaps you should stop by sometime.”

Ifrit rolled her eyes at him and directed her signs to me, The Watch Commander is causing problems again.

“How so?” 

He’s trying to keep his soldiers out of the training camps...says he doesn’t approve of the ‘mixing of races.’

Rolling my eyes, I ran my hand over my braid and resisted the urge to growl. This new commander was proving to be more trouble than he was worth. His commitment to keeping human and demi-fae soldiers away from the ‘pure-blooded fae’ was already widening the divide between the two groups. He was especially open about his distaste for me and my unit being in charge of training.

“I’ll take care of it.”

Ifrit nodded and took the opportunity to bump her hip into Kai, forcing him to scramble to keep his balance.

I turned away from the two bickering fae to survey the new recruits below me with a calculating odds. Already I could see the effect of several weeks under my unit’s watchful eyes and was pleased to see their improvement. Tamlin’s army was still smaller than he’d like after the war and the effects of the High Lady of Night’s short stay here. It probably didn’t help that the majority of his forces now had been recruited from the scattered remains of what was left of the Spring Court. It left him relying on an unfamiliar group of Hybern mercenaries to teach the mass of demi-fae, assorted creatures, and human volunteers.

The human volunteers had surprised the fae, I know. No high fae liked to think that a human was capable of doing damage against their kind in battle--not without the help of magic. But Jace and countless other ex-slaves in Hybern’s examples meant that my Legion had a healthy respect for the underdog. That respect went a long way towards training in unexpected tactics and frankly devastating surprise attacks. I knew that without that mixture of new and old soldiers, Spring wouldn’t have survived the fallout left behind by Tamlin’s ill-fated and ill-suited alliance with Hybern.

After the war and several months of awkward interactions, he’d eventually extended the offer to keep me and the rest of my unit on as advisors and trainers to his slow growing forces. The titles still itched uncomfortably close to the positions we’d held in Hybern, but the promise of safety and the freedom to leave at any time was enough to keep us here. Even if it meant suffering through the suspicious looks and unhappy complaints from the native Prythian fae. None of my own people had complained, but I knew that no one was looking forward to returning to living in simple tents after a few weeks in Tamlin’s officer quarters. 

So we stayed and tried to make a new home for ourselves.

While the majority of us remained comfortably with the garrison, Talia had happily taken over the healer’s units through sheer force of will and hints of violent intent. I was pretty sure she wasn’t responsible for the disappearance of one of the more resistant members of the old medical staff. Mostly sure.

That and the strange relationship that had grown between the High Lord and his newest healer was probably the favorite piece of gossip in the Spring Court. Was Tamlin really sleeping with an ex-Hybern mercenary? Or was this just another female scheming to destroy his Court? 

My favorite theory was that Talia was dosing him with love potions every night so she could have her way with him.

With Talia in mind, I walked away from the training grounds towards the meticulously maintained gardens that surrounded the large garden house. I still wasn’t quite used to the almost garish amount of lush foliage and greenery that seemed to spring from every inch of Spring soil. It was as far removed from the dry, grassy plains of Hybern that I could manage, but I still couldn’t find it in myself to care. A few of the staff nodded silent greetings to me as I made my way down the path towards the house. The damage left behind by Tamlin’s rage was nearly invisible now thanks to their efforts. 

You could almost pretend that this Court wasn’t full of fae irreparably damaged by the war and their own choices.

Ahead of me, the sound of raised voices made me shift my trajectory toward one of the carefully cultivated ponds nearby. I rolled my eyes when I was close enough to make out the words.

“--can’t just remove my healers without my permission! Kiel has served my family for years and--”

“And you can tell by how outdated his methods are!” Talia snapped back, obviously unimpressed by the fury that had Tamlin clenching his hands into fists to hold back the claws fighting to break free. Not that she ever seemed to be sufficiently cowed by the High Lord’s power. “He was using thistledown to heal an infection. Thistledown, Tamlin!”

“I don’t even know what that means, but it doesn’t give you the right to--”

“You told me you wanted to make sure your people were taken care of and that’s what I’m doing!” Talia retorted, crossing her arms over her chest and managing to look down her nose at the High Lord towering over her. “That soldier would have died if Kiel continued to treat him and now he’ll be out of the hospital by the end of the week.”

I turned the corner in time to watch Tamlin take a deep breath and pinch the brow of his nose like he was praying for patience. The years following the war had definitely seen a change in the irritable High Lord who’d first met us in the midst of a destroyed family home. His temper was still volatile, but it was tempered now with a bone-deep weariness that resonated with the dead-eyed soldiers who trickled in from the battlefronts. 

“I don’t know if I should kiss you or shove you off this bridge,” Tamlin finally said in a gravelly voice.

Talia’s smile went wicked and wild, all the fight gone in favor of setting her sights on a new prize. “Do I get to choose?”

His lips twitched despite his efforts to keep the smile at bay and he took a step closer to her, drawing her into the curve of his body with a gentleness that felt odd compared to the beast lurking in his eyes. Talia went willingly, easily, her hand reaching up to thread through the burnished gold of his hair and pull him forward.

I cleared my throat noisily.

Bright green eyes flicked over to me and I saw desire war with duty for a brief moment before he sighed again and straightened. “Did you need something?”

“Your new watch commander is causing problems again.”

Tamlin growled and scowled at me. “I don’t understand why you don’t just challenge him outright and show him what you’re capable of.”

I shrugged, shoulders tight with the weight of old memories and sins. “I don’t do that anymore.”

He grunted and brushed a kiss over Talia’s cheek before starting toward the training arena, leaving me alone with her. 

As soon as he was out of sight, she punched me lightly on the arm. “You couldn’t have waited to complain about your coworkers?”

“Aw, Tali,” I said with a smirk, “it’s not like you don’t spend every night with him scarring the minds of anyone close enough to hear.”

She grinned smugly, “They’re just jealous they don’t get to experience it for themselves.”

I shrugged again and we ambled down the path towards our quarters in amiable silence. All around us I could hear the calls of the songbirds and the rustle of a warm wind through the trees. My magic rose to the surface hungrily, but I chased it away with a firm hand. 

The burnout had scarred my gifts irreparably, that much was clear. It was more volatile, more consuming than the familiar power of my childhood. It moved through me like a current eager for destruction and always aching to pull more magic free from its bindings. Talia told me I should be grateful that it had returned, but I couldn’t help but think this was just another punishment left behind by my failures. 

Tentatively, I tugged at a thin strand of gleaming winds in my mind’s eye and was rewarded with a shift in the breeze that sent flower petals dancing along unseen currents. My victorious smile faded when the wind died with an abruptness that jangled awkwardly through my body like a bad note in the midst of a symphony and I scowled.

“It’ll come back in time, Aria,” Talia said in a rare moment of sympathy. “You can’t expect your magic to be exactly the same as before.”

We were skating dangerously close to discussing the subject that we all avoided like the plague so I channeled my frustration into a kick that sent a rock skittering down the path ahead of us. “It’s been years...I don’t think it’s coming back.”

She put her hand on my shoulder and squeezed in silent sympathy. “No one has ever survived what you did. We won’t know what you’re capable of until you heal fully.” When I didn’t respond immediately she changed the subject, “Someone dropped off a letter for you at the barracks.”

“Oh yeah? What did it say?” I asked, fully aware that Talia was incapable of resisting the urge to snoop through anything interesting.

“Apparently your presence is requested at the Broken Sword for a business opportunity.”

I frowned at the mention of the tavern located in one of the towns that bordered the High Lord’s personal lands. It was a grungy place for a legitimate meeting which probably meant it involved someone who didn’t want to go through official channels. We still dealt with the occasional creature or two, but it had been a while since we killed something without the High Lord’s seal of approval and funding.

“Did they say for what?”

“No. Just that it would be worth our while to meet with their representatives at midnight tonight.”

Still, it was more interesting than spending another evening downing some new concoction designed by Talia to keep me from losing my mind. So I summoned up a passing mimicry of my old smile and said, “Sounds like we have a date.”

____________________________________________________

The Broken Sword was easily the most disgusting of the bars located within traveling distance of the capital. The floors seemed to be permanently sticky with some unknown residue that had stained the floorboards into a nauseating mix of browns and reds. The residents weren’t much better--a odd grouping of soldiers looking to blow off steam, locals fresh from the fieldwork, and the occasional traveler unlucky enough to think they could find good food and drink here. There were a few familiar faces that I was relatively certain never actually left their spots at the bar.

Our arrival was greeted with a few curious eyes and even more scowls of recognition. I doubted there would ever come a day when a soldier of Hybern--even a former one--was welcomed here so I didn’t take it personally. Casually, my hand drifted down to pull back the edge of my cloak enough to show off the short sword strapped there and I felt the majority of the patrons refocus on their own drinks. We’d been here often enough that they no longer felt the need to test if I was willing to use it.

Ironically, Talia was popular in these areas despite her background. Sure there were a few who looked down on her relationship with Tamlin, but she’d managed to win over most of the locals after she stopped the spread of two diseases that liked to target the young. She barely settled herself into one of the seats at an open table before one of the tavern maids came by with a large mug of the house specialty.

Ifrit and I had to wait several more minutes before I was given the same courtesy.

I didn’t take it personally. Talia deserved the recognition that too few warriors and soldiers bothered to give the group of fae that kept them alive after every injury. I owed the grumpy little blonde more than my share of close calls as well.

Once the conversations in the tavern returned to their usual decibel, I cast a measuring glance around the room, searching out who ever summoned us. 

“Wanna put money down that this is another bullshit monster hunt?” Talia asked, already bored. 

Ifrit eyed the watery liquid in her glass suspiciously before responding. Anything would be better than running drills all day long.

“Some soldier you are,” I grumbled and she winked at me. “I bet it’s another offer from ‘interested parties’ looking for insider knowledge on the High Lord.”

Talia snorted, “I almost wish they’d try for a coup--Tamlin’s been bored of late.”

Can’t imagine how, Ifrit replied with fluent movements, you seem to keep him on his toes well enough.

The healer waggled her eyebrows suggestively and looked tremendously smug. “Yes. I really do.”

“Well whatever it is,” I broke in with a meaningful nod towards a group of three fae entering the bar and heading our way, “It looks like we’re about to find out. Lay low until they make their position clear.”

They nodded, bodies deceptively relaxed despite the fact that I knew they were keeping their weapons within easy reach. I took on the role of bait often enough that it was easy to keep my expression bland and polite as the strangers took their seats at our table. They remained silent as the last of their group was forced to snitch a chair from one of the other tables.

I took the opportunity to look the group over for any clues to their identity. Their cloaks and clothing were of decent enough quality to imply that they had access to funds, but wasn’t so nice to make them targets for thieves and pickpockets. Ifrit casually tapped my leg five times and I nodded minutely. Five weapons between the three of them made them a challenge, but not necessarily a threat. 

Unlike many of the soldiers I trained, magic didn’t linger heavily in the air around them and I was relatively certain that none of them were particularly gifted in that area. Another point in our favor. 

The only thing of curiosity that I noticed in my initial sweep was that they all wore matching signet rings on their right pinkies. The metal was tarnished enough that I couldn’t quite make out the design, but it stank of some sort of old organization if they bothered with such a gesture. In essence, everything in their appearance marked them as a typical messenger--important enough to be given a delicate task, but not so vital as to be grieved overmuch if they were killed in the process.

“Good evening,” I said with a slight smile, “What brings you out so late at night?”

The male in the middle didn’t bother to pull back his hood and I studied his bland features carefully, memorizing them in case I needed to describe him again. The whole interaction was beginning to feel a little too much like spycraft for my tastes and I was eager to get this over with.

“You are Aria, formerly the Commander of the Damned Legion and a soldier of Hybern?” he said instead.

I bristled at the title and felt the ache of decades old bitterness in my chest. “I was once called that.”

He leaned forward eagerly now, eyes gleaming with a near fanatical glow. “Your skill in the Arena and at war have not been forgotten by those loyal to the crown.”

An uneasy feeling stirred in my gut. I didn’t like the idea that my identity and whereabouts were common knowledge in Hybern. Our presence in Spring guaranteed a certain degree of protection, but I had no intention of falling prey to another political scheme or having my past used against me.

Still, I needed to find out just how much of my past had come to life since the fall of the old king.

“That loyalty was not enough to halt the slaughter of my men,” I said, not bothering to hide the anguish of the loss that still echoed in my hollow chest. “Their loyalty got them killed.”

Ifrit shifted to grip my leg with almost bruising strength and I let that pain ground me. I could practically taste the tension radiating by the two females on either side of me now. My magic roared eagerly to my fingertips, ready for the taste of blood.

The spokesperson of the group made a dismissive gesture. “Trask was a fool not to see the skill and power laying at his fingertips. He was too afraid of losing his position to understand what would have been possible through an alliance instead of enmity.”

I tilted my head in a curious gesture, one eyebrow arched. “But you do?”

“We represent a very interested party,” he said slowly, glancing around as though he was worried about being overheard, “who is seeking skilled fae who remember the old ways and would welcome their return.”

I resisted the urge to exchange a glance with Talia and Ifrit at this revelation. “To do what, precisely?”

“There are powers in motion that are beyond anything these weak High Lords can withstand, Commander.” His voice held all the fervent adoration of a true zealot and I fought the urge to recoil. Or remind them that this was the second time a leader from Hybern had promised the same. “We need your assistance in smoothing the way for them.”

“How?” I asked with a bit of challenge in my tone. “What do you want me to do? Kill a High Lord? Flattering, but even I am not that powerful.”

He smiled, his hands fluttering in a placating gesture. “We would not risk one of our allies so needlessly. We have a much easier target in mind--one you are already familiar with.”

My mind spun with possibilities, flicking through the list of Hybern soldiers I’d fought and Prythian commanders I’d bested. No one stood out enough to warrant this kind of attention from a Hybernese uprising. “Who then?”

The male leaned forward and I instinctively mimicked the gesture in time to hear him murmur, “We want you to kill the Shadow.”

I frowned, confused. “The who? I know of no shadows other than my own.”

“The spymaster,” he explained quickly and I felt the pit of my stomach drop with a bolt of pure terror. Beside me, Talia and Ifrit went still as stone, but the newcomers seemed oblivious to our reactions. “We want you to kill the Winter Court’s spymaster for the glory of Hybern. Do this, and you will be richly rewarded.”


	28. Chapter 28

"Have you lost your damn mind?"

The question was one that circled my thoughts on an endless loop even before Kai spoke it aloud. Despite that, I didn't pause in my near frantic packing. Weapons were simple, but I would need to stop to gather winter gear closer to the border. No one in Spring would carry anything suitable for the frozen climates. Weapons, clothes, food...it felt like I was still missing something.

It was next to impossible to think past the way my hind brain felt like it was shrieking at me to move, to do something.

Our mate was in danger.

When the silence began to stretch to painful levels, I finally glanced over at where Kai was sitting beside my pack on the bed. Ifrit and Talia hovered near him, their eyes dark with indecision. They'd been watching me closely ever since I'd taken the messengers outside the pub and gutted them. Not that I blamed them.

Even after I'd killed the one who'd tasked me with killing their mate, they'd been surprisingly reticent to tell me the truth of their origins. Whoever sent them into Spring knew my past and knew my legion well enough to risk testing our loyalty this openly. The news that Stryker was my true mate was still thankfully under wraps, but I couldn't guarantee that would remain so. Especially after news of the missing messengers reached their handlers.

"None of you have to go with me. You are free to stay here," I said.

Ifrit looked offended at the thought. We go where you go. Always have, always will.

"Agreed," Talia seconded, "Don't be an idiot, Aria. We are your family."

The words burned and burrowed into my skin, settling like a heavy weight that comforted and burdened all at once. I gave her a soft smile and tried to ignore the burning in my eyes. Kai looked bewildered, turning back and forth between each of us before throwing up his hands in defeat.

"So we're just going to march into the capital and seat of the Winter Court and assassinate their spymaster? Then what? Go back to Hybern and start all over again?"

Some visceral part of me shrieked in fury at the thought of harming my mate and I had to force myself to breathe past the urge to snap at Kai for suggesting it. Stryker was mine.

The reaction made me hesitate. Without the Wall's protection, it felt like our incomplete bond was growing stronger, more difficult to ignore. The dreams were bad enough, but now I was finding myself constantly resisting the urge to reach out along the blocked mental link just for a hint of his thoughts. I felt like a junkie that had been too long without their fix. My eyes dropped to the knife I still held in my hands that was waiting to be tucked away with the rest of my gear.

Every bitter and broken part of me seemed to have dissolved into chaos the moment the order was given to kill Stryker. If I killed him-if I survived it-I wondered if I could finally be free from this awful weight that constantly dragged me back into the regrets of my past. My mind pulled free the nightmares left behind by the image of Stryker and his female companion, taunting me with the idea that while I remained bound to the past and what could have been, he'd moved on.

Even if I didn't land the fatal blow myself, Hybern would send another and another until the job was done.

His death would not be so easy to stop.

The thought made me tighten my grip until the worn leather seems bit into my palms. I tried to imagine living with the knowledge that Stryker was dead and buried in the cold earth of Winter and felt nothing but an aching horror. No, I would not let my mate die without at least warning him of the danger.

"No," I said quietly, "We aren't going to kill him."

Talia shifted cautiously, her expression carefully neutral. "So you're going directly to Stryker?"

Kai looked at her incredulously, "Why would she take such a risk? He's just as likely to kill her and us as any other good Prythian soldier."

"He's her mate," Talia snapped and I felt the words land like a whip against my skin. Whatever my expression, it made her wince sympathetically like she regretted the bluntness of her words, but Kai was already spinning to face me.

"Your mate?!" He screeched, eyes comically wide. "You mean to tell me you had a mate this whole time? Why aren't we in Winter then?"

"It's complicated," I cut in before Talia could speak more on the subject then spoke more softly, "He doesn't know we're here or that we survived Trask."

Ifrit frowned, I assumed your bond was still in place. How could he not know you were alive?

"The Wall blocked the mate bond until it fell. I kept my shields in place afterwards so that he wouldn't realize we were in Prythian."

I heard a soft inhalation of air and turned in time to see Talia's eyes widened as she connected the dots between my dreams and the mate bond. She must have assumed I was plagued with the same nightmares that followed those who survived the kind of devastation I'd witnessed. Now, she looked at me and understood just what I'd been asking her all those years ago.

"Why would you-"

"Stryker-" Even the name left a painful sensation, too sweet, too tantalizing to be spoken aloud without censure. "-is dedicated to his cause as I am to my people. That didn't change even after we were forced to flee Hybern...There was no point to questioning where our loyalties stood afterward."

Need to find him find him find him

I thought of how many times Stryker had chosen to put his revenge on Amarantha over his own safety and anyone around him. How he'd known that there would be a reckoning to follow our return to Hybern after failing to fulfill her orders. How he'd manipulated us into the ambush that gave him the opportunity to return to Prythian-with or without me. Our bargains had only lasted as long as he bothered to acknowledge them.

"Gods, Aria…" Kai said with a heavy sigh. He stared down at his hands for a long moment as he sorted through the information. "So what's the plan then?"

Keep him safe. Make him stay.

I tried not to look to relieved when Talia and Ifrit nodded their approval as well. "We go north into Winter. Kai can keep our identities and Ifrit's wings hidden from any who would take unwanted notice and allow us to pass through the city gates without difficulty. Once we're there, I'll track down Stryker and alert him to the plot."

A simple summary of what was sure to be a devastating and painful visit.

Kai glanced around to the others for a moment before he threw his hands in the air with a gesture of defeat. "Guess I better start packing. Katrina will be pissed that she's missing out on all the excitement." The thought was enough to make him grin as he made his way out of my room, patting me on the shoulder as he passed.

"Make sure you tell her she's in charge while we're gone!" I called after him.

Without him, it felt like the air in the room went sharp and heady. I stood so I could face my two oldest friends without my packing to hide behind. My fingers itched for something to fidget with but I forced them into stillness. This was a conversation that was long overdue.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Stryker."

Ifrit was signing before I even finished my apology. How do you know so much about what Stryker was doing?

"When I-" My voice cracked and I roughly cleared my throat to begin again, "When I was healing after everything, I started having dreams-or I thought they were at first. I saw him go to Hybern and the camp with the Winter scouts who ambush us...He-he found the place where we fought and…"

I swallowed hard and swallowed again, feeling the warm path of tears trickling down my cheeks. Ifrit stared down at the floor, her breath ragged as she absorbed the information. We'd never truly spoken about those last moments with Jace. After I'd awakened, it had been too hard to talk about and time had continued to slip by without us ever dredging up the horrors of that day.

Jace was dead. Nothing else mattered.

"Why would he go there?" Talia whispered.

"He felt me begin to burn out through the link," I explained, "I think he was trying to reach us in time to help, but I blacked out before he even reached the mainland. Kai must have dragged me away from the battlefield while the storm was still raging and Stryker assumed that my body was lost with the others. He stayed to bury Jace…"

They went silent, shifting the view of Stryker's suspected abandonment in favor of a failed attempt to recover his mate. It made their anger at him sit oddly.

So he thinks you're dead, Ifrit signed finally. And the Wall made sure his abilities wouldn't reach you except when you were dreaming.

"Yes, it got worse after the Wall fell."

"Why didn't you just tell him the truth?" Talia asked, "You could have reunited once Hybern was defeated."

I straightened my shoulders and forced my voice to remain steady. "We chose our sides before any of this even happened. I will always be loyal to my family and he is committed to ensuring Prythian remains safe. We knew it would always come down to this."

But we are no longer enemies of Prythian, Ifrit signed quickly. We belong to the Spring Court now and have for decades.

"It doesn't matter," I cut in briskly. "He moved on."

They exchanged a look before Talia asked hesitantly, "What do you mean?"

"The dreams came back after the Wall...They showed me what he was doing in Winter for months-all his fights and meetings with his networks of spies, everything. I saw him with-It doesn't matter," I took a deep breath and forced myself to continue, "He has already moved on."

"Shit," Talia hissed. "You're sure?"

I nodded and turned away from them to sort through my pack. And give myself time to school my features into a more neutral expression.

"If this changes things for you, I understand. I won't hold it against you if you choose to stay."

There was an indignant snort from behind me and I turned in time to see identical scowls of displeasure.

"Don't be an ass, Aria," Talia finally said. "We've followed you this far-we aren't about to stop now."

Three days later I found myself standing outside the massive walls of ice that surrounded the city of Kharos with Talia, Ifrit, and Kai standing at my side.

A long line of travelers and merchants trailed away from the city gates courtesy of the large group of soldiers checking each load and visitor personally. I frowned at the sight. Kallias and Vivianne's Court had always been purported to be a peaceful territory that promoted diplomacy over warfare. These soldiers and checkpoints must be a recent addition. The uneasy feeling in my gut worsened.

"What's going on with all the guards?" Talia murmured, blue eyes wary. Ifrit shook her head wordlessly and continued to fidget with the straps of her pack.

"Why do I feel like our visitors in Spring have something to do with this?" I mused. The line shifted slowly forward and I nudged Kai carefully. "Are they going to be a problem?"

"Of course not, Ari," Kai said easily and slung an arm over my neck in a loose embrace. This close, I could see the sweat beginning to gleam on his forehead from the strain. "I've made us all look like perfectly normal upstanding citizens."

I began to doubt how 'perfectly normal' our disguises were when the first guard to check us into the city nearly swallowed his tongue when he looked at my chest. He must have stuttered for a full minute before he finally waved us through, blushing scarlet. Kai was vibrating with smothered laughter and I shot him an acidic look that did nothing to ease the hot blush on my cheeks.

The distraction was enough to get us through the gates and into the marketplace before my nerves returned full force. My whole body was tense with nerves. I scanned the fae around us anxiously, like Stryker would appear at any moment despite the fact that the mate bond in my chest remained silent. I checked my shields carefully, feverishly, over and over again in case my presence was betrayed by the way my soul felt like it was wiggling like an eager puppy. There was a persistent tug in my chest that only grew stronger with each step, maddening in its temptation.

He was here he was here he was here

Ifrit looked over the crowds curiously before she bumped her elbow gently into my side. Something's off with these people...they look like they're under siege.

Her observation had me looking over the city and its people in a new light, noting the muted conversations and the way many of the customers and shopkeepers were keeping to themselves. She was right-something had gone terribly wrong in Kharos. Frowning thoughtfully, we followed the crowd toward the main street that edged the palace walls. There I stopped and stared in surprise.

Black banners and flags hung heavily all along the palace walls and parapets. A city in mourning.

"Who died?" I murmured to the others. We must have beaten the news breaking in Spring in our rush to warn Stryker. Please don't let us be too late.

"You didn't hear?" a high, thin voice said eagerly from a few feet away and I turned to face the speaker. The older fae female had the reed thin body and carefully chosen clothing of someone who cared greatly for their appearance, even without the grace of youth to aid her. Despite the grim topic, she looked excited at the opportunity to describe whatever madness had descended on KHaros. I caught a brief hint of floral perfume before she continued, eager to share the gossip with fresh ears. "The High Lord of Winter was murdered!" she hissed.

"Murdered?" Kai asked, "Who could murder a High Lord?"

She reached up to wipe away a nonexistent tear as though just speaking on the topic was enough to reignite her sympathetic grief. "Oh, it's just awful...our poor Kallias."

Talia rolled her eyes at her dramatics, but I shot her a look to keep her quiet. I kept my voice carefully gentle as I laid my hand on her bony shoulder. "Do you know what happened?"

"The-the news just spread this morning," she said in a low voice that forced us to lean forward eagerly, "It was a coup-his son, the prince murdered his father in cold blood to take the throne!"

"The prince?" I asked, frowning and trying to remember the names of Kallias' children. Maybe I should have done some research before I came here. "His firstborn?"

She shook her head quickly, glancing back at the palace. "No, no, of course not. My Lord Thrace was the one who was forced to stop his brother in his evil scheme. It's his soldiers who patrol the streets for any signs of the other members of this conspiracy. His grief was so great that he could not bear to kill his sibling so he locked him away so justice could be served." Scowling fiercely, the tiny female spat on the ground. "It was more than that murderer deserved if you ask me…"

With each word, the female cemented my suspicions that we had come too late to stop whatever attack Hybern was planning here. If they were able to topple the power structure and peace that was so carefully maintained by Winter among the other Courts, they could rip away the peace that had lingered after the old king's demise. Vivianne would be too heartbroken to resist any challengers to the throne and the way was already set for a new leader to emerge. I could feel a new tension building with the others and I stared at the black banners for a long moment before turning away.

We needed to find Stryker. Fast.

In a strange twist of fate, finding the WInter spymaster was as easy as finding the seediest thugs around and asking politely. They pointed us toward the hidden city beneath Kharos where the guards didn't bother to roam and criminals formed their own kingdom of sorts. A kingdom ruled by one male-my mate.

It was a puzzling contrast between the title of spymaster and King of the Warrens to be sure. Each step we took into Kharos seemed to echo with a confusing mixture in intrigue and death and I was dreading to learn how much of this revolved around Stryker.

The Warrens themselves oddly fitting for the male I'd known so long ago. At first glance, they were a breeding ground for chance and all manner of debauchery. It wasn't until you looked closer that you could see the kinder elements hidden among the excited laughter and wandering hands. Each fae looked calm and comfortable with the knowledge that every step they took in this underground city would be guarded by the same set of rules that kept Thrace's soldiers from wandering beneath the streets of their city.

I wondered how long that would last if Stryker was truly in danger of being indicted in this plot.

Unsurprisingly, Kai looked like he was enjoying himself entirely too much. His delighted laughter cut through the noise of the crowd as he was spun into a dance by a clever-eyed female. Even Ifrit looked amused by the spectacle he was creating amid the jaunty musicians who seemed to be doing their level best to cover up the simmering tension that poisoned the air even here. No amount of partying and gambling would be enough to disguise the tinge of fear and sadness in Kharos.

"So where is he?" Talia asked, shooting a glare at a male who started toward her like he would try to ask her to dance. "I doubt he'll be out in the open."

I nodded in the direction of the largest, gaudiest building in the courtyard. "I'm willing to bet he's in there."

The building was easily the largest on the strip and the most popular. Fae spilled in and out of the front doors, ripe with the scent of alcohol and stale sweat. The walls were painted a dark green with bright, garish gold lining surrounding each large window. The lavish decorations were practically a dare for any fool willing to risk the wrath of its owner and a boast that none had challenged. High above the entrance, I traced my eyes over an intricate carving of an ivy crown with a dark curl of a pine marten wrapped around its base.

It was a fitting court for the so-called King of the Underworld.

"Kai," I raised my voice enough to call the youngest of our group back from his revelry, "you and Ifrit scout for a safe place to stay tonight. We can't run the risk of attracting the guard's attention. Talia, see if you can find out any more of this supposed attack on Kallias. I don't think we've heard the whole story yet."

What about you? Ifrit signed with a curious tilt of her head and a question in her dark eyes. Do you really want to go alone?

I looked back at the gambling den shining bright and frenetic in the distance. Part of me was hoping for it to look different from the visions in my dreams, more foreboding. But it was just a building. Just a building that had become the home of the male I once loved.

"I need to do this alone," I said finally. "I'll meet you in the square in a few hours."

They watched me for a long pause before finally nodding. Ifrit clapped Kai on the shoulder and nudged him back into the crowd, looking odd without the familiar arch of her dark wings looming behind her. Talia opened her mouth like she wanted to say something but thought better of it. Finally she nodded and trailed after the others with one last glance over her shoulder.

Then I was alone once more.

Before I could lose my nerve, I slipped into the crowd of eager patrons who were lining up for open seats at the gambling tables. I was tempted to join them, but I knew that the conversation that was waiting for me here needed to be private. I wasn't sure how Stryker would respond to me being alive, but, for my sanity, I didn't need the added pressure of prying eyes.

So, instead of following them in, I searched my memories of the few dreams that featured his home and ducked around the side of the building. Stryker and his team were far too knowledgeable to do something so dumb as to leave a back entrance unguarded, but there were other ways of getting inside.

I'd never been much of a spy or a thief, but I'd picked up a few useful skills in the army. Skills that had me hunting for the window I'd seen covered by heavy green fabrics in my dreams. I forced myself to stumble drunkenly to match the other drowsy eyed fae wandering around this area. They barely glanced in my direction and I was careful to wait for the alley to clear before I leapt straight up to catch the lip of the window sill and haul myself up.

Of course Stryker was too cautious to leave his window unlatched, but a few hard jerks of my knife were enough to force the stubborn bolt open. Warm air from the fires still lit inside were soothing against the icy cold of the Winter Court and I slipped eagerly inside. The curtains were enough to cover the broken window lock and I made sure that it was sealed as tightly as I could manage before I began to look around the room.

Unlike the bright colors and lights downstairs, Stryker's room reminded me of the barracks. The bed was larger than the cots we used in our tents and, I noted with more than a hint of bitterness, more than enough space for two. The sight of it made that brittle, injured part of my soul go hard and still and I let myself sink into the sensation. It would be best to remain distant, cautious and careful.

The scent of summer grass and night winds permeated the small space, making it difficult to think. There was a part of me that wanted to sink into the messy sheets and just stay there. To finally sleep without the achy need to be somewhere else. I trailed my fingers over the pillow briefly before a muffled shout from downstairs reminded me that there were bigger elements at play here and turned back to the rest of the room.

The desk was just as messy as my dreams from before, papers scattered frenetically over every available space. A quick glance proved that the majority were written in a code I didn't recognize and I only rifled through a few stacks before moving on. More often than not, I found myself staring at the proud sigil of the Winter Court which proved that Stryker was far more than some rogue king.

For a long moment, I considered waiting for Stryker to return to his room for the night to confront him, but the thought of seeing him come back with another woman had me walking to the door. I told myself that it wouldn't matter if he was with someone else-I was just here for a warning and nothing else.

But I knew I was lying.

It was easier to think without the heavy scent of my mate surrounding me and I was careful to close the door behind me as quietly as possible. The party was still going on strong downstairs so I padded down the hallway in the direction of the noise with the idea that I might find a quiet place to wait for Stryker to be alone. That plan went out the window when I turned the first corner and ran directly into a rough looking demi-fae carrying a stack of papers.

He frowned at me, eyes sharp despite the fact that I didn't see a weapon in easy reach. "What are you doing back here, girl?"

Thinking quickly, I gave him a quick bob of my head, trying for humble and not like I'd briefly considered killing him and hiding the body back in one of the closets I'd passed. "I was told to see the master, sir. I have a message from Spring."

"He ain't nobody's master, kid," the male grunted. With a jerk of his chin, he gestured further down the hallway towards a pair of carved doors. "You can wait for him in there."

I nodded frantically and scurried in that direction, trying to look like one of my old recruits when they were caught out of curfew. It seemed to work well enough since I didn't feel a blade in my back or a cry of alarm signalling an intruder. I was quick to duck inside the room anyway, just in case he changed his mind.

Inside, the room was nearly silent thanks to the thick walls and doors. It was decorated simply enough aside from the massive table taking up the center of the room. A few bowls of fruit and a decanter of wine set aside for visitors. I helped myself to a glass of wine to give my hands something to do as I slowly walked down the long table toward the chair that dominated its end.

Someone-and there was little doubt as to who-had taken great care to do all but scream that this was a throne made for a king. The sharp scent of cedar was still strong despite the lacquer that had been lovingly applied and I stepped closer to inspect the hand carved details that trailed down the arms and felt my breath catch.

Dark clouds threaded sinuously over the space, dotted with bolts of bright fire and energy. The base of the arm rest I could make out a lone figure standing with their arms outstretched toward the storm, half pleading, half exultant in the riotous mass above them. At one point it must have been painted, but the colors had faded after countless years of fingers running over the smooth grain. I knew without question that the storm was mine.

The thought left me unsteady, confused by the gesture that seemed so at odds with the image of Stryker in the arms of another female. My mind clutched at the remains of my mate bond like a children with a favorite toy. There was too much unsaid between us for me to maintain the careful distance I'd been striving for.

I needed to see him. To touch and hear and taste each breath of life in his chest and know that he was safe.

Without questioning the urge, I sank down in the chair and let my fingers trail over the memories carved into the wood there, wondering at their meaning. The sharp sweetness of the wine felt warm and heady in my stomach and I toyed with the idea of letting down my shields long enough to seek out his location. I had to hope that despite the chaos in the city Stryker had managed to survive without injury.

Before I could take another fortifying gulp of wine, the doors to the meeting room cracked open, spilling in the light and laughter from the raucous party in the gambling den outside and revealing the jumbled outline of the male I was here to see. Two females on either side of him giggled madly, the scent of their inebriation enough to crinkle my nose even from this distance. For a moment, time went still as I looked at Stryker and his companions.

Even after all this time, I didn't expect to taste bitter betrayal in my suddenly too dry mouth.

It burned like acid and stirred the anger that had been washed away by the initial pleasure of seeing my mate in person for the first time in decades. Better the burn of anger than the burn of tears at the realization that he wasn't exactly grieving at the loss of his mate.

I narrowed my eyes on him, tracing the line of his jaw - shadowed now with the hint of a beard - and the new lines of tension radiated from eyes that hadn't felt so...tired the last time I'd seen him. Of course, the last time I'd seen him was the night he'd chosen this frozen wasteland and his precious Prythian over what could have been between us.

As though he heard the thought, Stryker's head snapped up and I felt the air leave my lungs as our eyes met. His jaw dropped and I felt a slow, almost cruel smile twist my lips. "Hello, darling. Did you miss me?" I purred.

"Aria," he breathed, eyes wide and round. His hands fell limply at his sides - much to the displeasure of his new...companions.

The blonde female on his left gave a dramatic pout, running her hand down his chest to the waist of his pants. My eyes tracked the movement and I felt my nails dig into the wood of the chair. "Stryker, tell her to go away. You promised you'd teach us that card trick." Her emphasis on 'card trick' left little to the imagination for what she actually meant and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. The other female, with olive toned skin and dark, curling hair, cooed her agreement.

I settled more comfortably in the ornate throne set at the head of the grand table and made a sweeping gesture. "Don't let me stop you - although I'll warn you, he has a few performance issues."

The bitterness in my tone was enough to snap him out of his daze and he pushed their hands away with enough force that they made noises of protest. "Tell Gorre to treat you to whatever you like at the bar, my treat." Their disappointed murmurs turned to vicious glares towards me as they slunk back to the main hall.

Stryker's attention returned to me and I suddenly had to resist the urge to call them back, just so I wasn't forced to be alone with the male who'd broken my heart. No, I growled to myself, he didn't deserve the feelings and trust I'd given him. He'd made his choice and I'd made mine. There was nothing left between us anymore.

Nothing but the broken remains of a forgotten bond.

He took two steps forward and I watched with predatory intent. I still hadn't decided how I wanted this meeting to end now that fury was riding me hard. With his death? Or a simple parting of ways? I could just say my piece and return to the anonymous existence I'd cultivated in the years after leaving Hybern.

After failing Jace.

"How is this possible?" he whispered and I watched his thoughts play out over his unusually expressive face. He took a tentative step forward like he was afraid I would disappear if he moved too quickly. "Y-you were dead. I felt you die."

There it was. His only excuse for his behavior and my reminder for why I couldn't allow myself to be distracted ever again.

"Rumors of my death have been highly exaggerated, I'm afraid," I said lightly, then glanced back at the door meaningfully, "Don't worry, I don't expect you to change your...lifestyle."

He flinched at my tone and the reminder of what he'd been planning to do this evening. "Those were - never mind them. How could you let me believe you were dead?" The furious growl in his voice was familiar, even after all this time. It seemed like his surprise at my return was rapidly being replaced by confusion and anger.

"You don't appear to be suffering."

Stryker prowled forward until he was nearly standing over me, anger vibrating through every line of his body. His hands reached out like he wanted to touch me for himself, but at the last moment he forced them back to his sides with an acidic expression. "You have no idea if I suffered," he spat, trying and failing to keep his voice lowered. "You disappeared and all I had was a field full of bodies to tell me what happened."

The old grief of that day battered at me and I dug my nails into the wooden armrests in an attempt to center myself. I refused to let myself slide back into that darkness.

"You made your choice," I finally growled. "You chose Prythian and that sweet little Winter girl and I chose my family. You knew what I was walking back into when I failed to complete my mission and you still left." Left me. "You don't have a right to know what happened after everything fell apart."

Some of the fight went out of him at that and he collapsed into the chair closest to mine, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. Without the cocky, mischievous attitude of my memories, he looked tired, worn thin in places that had once been strong. After a long moment, he asked, "What are you doing here, Aria?"

"Someone paid me to kill you," I said flatly and grinned when he looked back up at me with new interest. "The irony wasn't lost on me."

"This is an odd assassination strategy." He didn't run or reach for the weapons I knew he had hidden beneath the dark green wool coat around his shoulders. I wasn't sure if I should be flattered or insulted. Instead he looked...resigned. The sight upset me more than I expected.

I leaned back in my chair, putting my feet up on his table and finding petty enjoyment in the sight of the mud that fell there. "Someone claiming to represent a new power from Hybern sought me out to track you down and kill you. Obviously they knew of my skills, but they didn't know of our past."

Stryker's expression flickered and went intense. "Thrace sent you?"

"Oh, they didn't seem keen to share their employer's identity, but I can guess now that I'm in Kharos if the rumors of the attack on Kallias are true.," I replied with an easy smile, "But his little messenger did tell me that Winter was the staging area for their glorious revolution after I asked him very, very nicely."

Turns out I'm not very nice.

He looked speculative, fishing out a flask from within his coat and taking a deep swallow. My eyes tracked the movement and I had to look away to keep the longing at bay. When he finished, his face was grimmer than I'd ever seen. "Why you?"

I shrugged. "They were looking for someone who had ties to Hybern and enough power to be valuable in their new army. Unfortunately, any loyalties I had to my homeland are long dead." Dead with Jace and the rest of my legion. "It was the first time I knew for sure where you disappeared to." I wasn't sure why I told him that much.

I didn't owe it to him to explain why I hadn't searched for him aside from the dreams.

"So," he drawled, eyeing me in a way that made heat curl sluggishly through the pit of my stomach, "is this where we fight to the death?"

Snorting, I leaned forward and snatched the flask from his loose grip and downed the rest of the contents, wincing at the flavor. The sensation of his skin against mine, however brief, made my skin warm and I covered the reaction with a cough. "Damn, that's foul," I tossed it back to him and leaned back in his mockery of a throne, "Now we talk."

One dark eyebrow shot up. "From what I recall, you were never fond of talking."

"Talking is the only way this night ends without you dying," I snapped, "but, then again, it may still end that way."

"What do you want to know?"

"Why do they want you dead?"

He sighed, rubbing at his tired eyes. "Thrace is staging a hostile takeover of the city - I think he's responsible for Kallias' death, but the only witness that isn't in Thrace's pocket is in a jail cell. Unfortunately, I made it clear a long time ago that my allegiance is not with him so it's no surprise he wants me gone."

"Is it with your Winter female?" The words were sharper than the cool tone I was struggling to maintain.

"Vivianne isn't my female, Aria," he said and I flinched at the emotion in his eyes. "And don't lose your focus - you're mad at me, remember? Don't bring her into this."

"How could I forget?" I growled and took a breath, trying to return to the numbness that had kept me safe for years now. It felt too brittle now. "So why are you in here drinking and whoring instead of ending him?"

"I'm not-" he cut off his protest on a curse and leaned forward, green eyes blazing into me, "I'm trying to find a way into the cells to rescue Rhone. Those females are companions of a few of the inner palace guards and I was in the process of convincing them to give me the guard rotation."

"Didn't look like they needed much convincing."

He shot me a disparaging look. "I wouldn't know - you showing up derailed all my plans."

"Should I pretend to be apologetic?"

Stryker's lips pursed and I focused my willpower on not looking at them. "So have you decided?"

The calmness in his voice made me meet his eyes once again, "On?"

"Whether you intend to kill me."

I drummed my fingers against the wood of the armrest in an erratic tempo. "I decided a long time ago that if anyone was going to kill you, it would be me."

A flicker of a smile quirked his lips and I caught a glimpse of the male I'd loved in it. "Could I convince you to delay that certainty for a little longer?"


	29. Chapter 29

I stared at him for a long moment, torn between the familiar urge to melt into that crooked smile and the bitterness that felt like it would never go away. I was drowning in a complicated mixture of grief for someone still living and the same simmering anger that kept me upright and moving for decades. His expression faltered into something close to vulnerable and I swallowed hard, toying with the edge of my wine goblet. 

Now wasn’t the time to dig into old wounds. Perhaps it was best to avoid that permanently.

“Tell me everything.”

“That might take a while,” he said with a wry smile, but he settled into the chair next to me. I didn’t miss the way his body leaned toward mine like a flower soaking up the sun’s rays. It took all of my control not to do the same.

“All I have is time.”

____________________________________________________

The story Stryker painted was baffling in its complexity and terrifying in its implications.

It was clear that the messengers in Spring hadn’t lied about one thing--Hybern was once again setting its sights on Prythian and were apparently using Amarantha’s spellbook to do it. I tried not to think about what kind of nightmares Amarantha had saved on each page of her most precious work or the damage it could do in the hands of the wrong fae. It was also clear that whether Stryker lived or died would be decided by who came out on top of this conflict.

“And you’re certain that Rhone isn’t a part of this plot? He wouldn’t be the first prince to try to speed up the line of succession.”

Stryker looked fierce and resolute as he shook his head. “I’ve known Rhone his whole life--there’s no way he would harm his family for political for political gain. Even if he could stomach murdering Kallias in cold blood, he wouldn’t allow harm to come to his mate.”

There was an awkward pause filled with all the pain of the last eighty years living apart from one another. No, it was nearly unfathomable for a mate to harm the partner, but that didn’t make it impossible. We’d proven that time and time again.

“Had they completed their mate bond?” I asked dispassionately, playing devil’s advocate with barely any effort. “Without a full bond, it’s possible to kill a mate if you’re determined enough.”

“Rhone didn’t...I don’t think he knew that they were bonded, but Kali did,” he said after a moment. “But they were committed to each other even without it. He couldn’t have killed her. He wouldn’t.”

I nodded, allowing the point. Plenty of fae lived and loved their partners without the benefit of some mystical soul bond. It didn’t mean they didn’t care for each other any less. Maybe it was easier when you had a choice. “If she’s dead, how do you know he’ll want to stop whoever is after the spellbook?”

Maybe he would choose to follow his mate into the dark.

Stryker’s eyes went flat and lifeless as he pursed his full lips, drawing attention to a small scar that bisected the top curve. It was another example of some hurt I hadn’t been there to witness and I wondered what other injuries lurked beneath the surface. The one sided bond between us hung limply in my chest, twisting in some long forgotten breeze.

“Rhone won’t let Kali’s death go unpunished. At the very least, he will know the truth of what happened to Kallias.”

“Why not bring your suspicions to the High Lady or confront Thrace yourself?”

“The High Lady has been unconscious since Kallias was killed--” I had to clench my hands into fists to keep from reaching out at the grief in his voice, “--and Thrace has banned me from entering the palace grounds due to my relationship with Rhone. It won’t be long before he sends his guards to send me to my new jail cell on charges of conspiracy or treason. I don’t have the allies in place to make a stand against him--he must have been planning this for quite some time.”

“So you want me to smuggle you out of Winter?” I guessed with an arch of my brow.

His lips twisted into a complicated expression that made me wish for the days where I could just reach out and touch his thoughts to understand what was really going on. 

Not that it stopped him from lying to me when he wanted I reminded myself.

“I need help breaking Rhone out of jail before Thrace has him killed.”

I let out a low whistle. “Oh, is that all? Just want me to risk my crew to break out a wanted murderer in the middle of a city-wide lockdown and then what? Flee to another Court?”

He gave me a smirk that was a little too challenging to be sincere. “What? You don’t think you can do it?”

“Don’t be stupid,” I growled, “I could manage that alone--I just don’t see the point of it.”

“You’d be ensuring that a good leader was in charge of the Winter Court and that the new High Lord would owe you greatly for your service.”

I waved that off impatiently. “I already have enough High Lords in my debt,” It was a lie--Tamlin hardly counted, but I couldn’t resist needling Stryker a little. “And why should I care about what happens to Winter?”

“Then what do you want?” he growled, eyes dark. “Money? Power? My head on a platter?”

Just you, a small voice in my heart whispered. 

Mate. My mate. The need to touch, to claim was a constant ache now. It made my bones sing with the end of the loneliness that kept me awake every night without Talia’s potions. A selfish part of me wanted to tell him to choose to leave his post here and start a new life with me in Spring. Just as quickly as the temptation appeared, I brushed it away. I wouldn’t manipulate Stryker into staying with me against his will.

“If I wanted you dead, I could’ve killed you while you were distracted by your mistresses,” I ignored the growl that rumbled out of him at the reminder of what I’d seen and what he continued to claim was a misunderstanding. “And money and power are meaningless--I have more than enough where I am now.”

“And where is that?” he asked abruptly, “I’ve never heard any rumors of anyone from Hybern making a home in Prythian.”

I shrugged, knowing the non-answer would irritate him more than the truth. “That hardly matters. I never expected you to visit.”

“Because you’d rather I believe you were dead,” he snapped.

“Dead or rejected is basically the same, isn’t it?”

Whatever fragile hold he kept on his temper frayed then and he stood, snarling his fury. Every inch of him radiated the furious power and primitive fury of the creatures of the whispered legends of the humans beyond the Wall. “I never rejec--”

I jerked out of my seat to match his stance, magic snapping to life beneath my skin until it felt like I was drowning in it. “You left me so you could play hero in Winter. Don’t pretend like you didn’t know that decision wouldn’t affect our bond too.” I took a breath, hiding the hurt behind anger, “You chose not to complete the bond on your side when we were together because you were always ready for the day when you would walk away. I was the fool who didn’t see it coming.”

Each word landed like a blow and he seemed to deflate in front of me. Tears burned humiliatingly in my eyes, but I refused to blink and set them free. The push and pull between us felt like a sickness that I couldn’t quite break, even after all this time. I could still feel the bond reaching to bridge the gap between us, persistent and endless like the root of some plant seeking life-giving nutrients. It was the worst kind of purgatory--neither of us had officially taken the steps to end the bond or complete it. So it remained unfinished.

Stryker raked his fingers through his hair roughly, sending the dark strands scattering in a wild crown. “I--I didn’t…” he sighed and looked back at me, “I never planned to leave you, Aria. I just couldn’t stand by and let Amarantha destroy my home. I would have come back.”

Abruptly the fight seemed to drain out of me, leaving me exhausted and raw. This reunion had already gone far beyond what I’d planned when I first set out for Winter. I’d thought that I’d be satisfied be with keeping Stryker alive and maybe showing him that I was too as a form of closure. That I could return to my people and the Spring Court knowing that I’d closed the door to this chapter of my life.

Instead I felt like I was drowning in regret.

“How soon does Rhone need to be pulled from the cells?” I asked quietly.

Stryker straightened in surprise, his mouth opening and closing for a moment before he managed to get out, “You’ll help me?”

“If getting your prince out will keep someone like Amarantha from coming into power, then it needs to be done.” Any successful uprising for Hybern was likely to draw what was left of my family into the conflict anyway--at least this way we could prevent a war before it swept the world back into madness.

He closed his eyes for a moment, face smoothing into almost painful relief. It made me wonder just how close Stryker had become to the ruling family of Winter. And how much I wish that he felt the same relief about my return.

“Thank you, Aria.”

“Don’t thank me yet--I haven’t named my price.”

The words were enough to make us return to the uneasy tension that had filled the room the moment he laid eyes on me. I could practically feel his mind turning over each possible thing he thought I might want from him so he could use it to his favor. Each second of silence heightened the growing differences between the male I’d known and the spymaster before me. We both knew his bargaining powers were thin here and that his dedication to Winter and their leaders would keep him from protesting whatever I demanded.

We were still standing only inches away from each other, now without the heat of our tempers to fill the space between us. I could see the moment where he realized that it would only take the smallest of gestures to close that gap and appease the aching holes in our chest where the matebond still stubbornly lingered. His eyes went dark with desire and flicked to my lips when I nervously wet them. Stayed there.

“Tell me what you want then,” he whispered with a voice gone hoarse and gravelly with desire and anticipation. “I’ll do it.”

I could feel my body reacting to his closeness, blooming like a flower in the sun. My mind felt fuzzy with the urge to sink into that warmth and let some of his strength bleed into me. 

I wished. I wanted.

He shifted, a smooth ripple of muscle that brought the tension between us to the razor’s edge and reminded me of all the reasons I’d been attracted to him from the beginning. Here was a partner with the mind, the power, the influence to keep me and mine safe the bond whispered. Here was someone who could conquer. It was a reminder that despite our fancy words and ways, my kind would always be led by the beast within. Any moment of weakness would fall before the might of what our magic called for us to do.

The bond remained a constant itch beneath my skin--so close to what I ached for, but not able to break past years of careful control. It begged me to hold, to bind this male to us so that he couldn’t disappear again. The fact that the bond had only been partially completed by Hybern standards and not Prythian’s made me wonder if Stryker felt the same relentless push or if it was just the ghost of better times. Either way, I knew I couldn’t let my baser nature force us into a relationship that would eventually be twisted by regret and bitterness.

I took a deep breath of wind and cedar and mate and tried to force my body back under my control. This was not the time to fall victim to the same forces that had tormented me for decades now. Everything about this meeting was a reminder of the choices we’d made and all the ways we’d hurt each other in the name of our causes. 

The question was whether we could move forward or continue to rip and tear each other apart.

“For now, I’ll settle for a favor of equal value,” I said and I was proud of how even my voice managed to be. “Somehow, I’ve managed to avoid the kind of trouble you seem drawn to.”

If he was disappointed that I didn’t fall for the same physical attraction that had complicated everything in Hybern, he didn’t show it. Stryker just nodded, easing back subtly until we both could breathe again.

“What resources do you have here?” he asked after a beat and I could practically see the moment where he decided to put business before...whatever this was.

The thought of calling Talia, Ifrit, and Kai ‘resources’ made my lips twist in distaste. Clearly this version of my mate was far different from the one who’d crouched over Jace’s cold body in a barren field. “You let me worry about that. I just need a blueprint of the prison cells and whatever information you have on guard rotations and their defenses.”

“Done.”

My smile felt a little wild when I finished off my glass of wine. “Then let’s break into the palace.”

________________________________________________________

 

Even with Stryker’s growing sense of urgency and our combined experience, it still took over an hour to find a way into the prison complex that wouldn’t call for significant casualties or risks to Rhone. Stryker wasn’t willing to fight a total war against the guards and soldiers caught in the conflict and, with only four warriors to use on my side, we had to be certain that we could get in and out of the complex before a proper defense was mounted. That left speed and surprise our only allies.

Ifrit and Talia arrived thirty minutes after I sent the young towheaded messenger boy out to with a message to bring them to me. They both looked wary and on edge at the sight of me and Stryker standing shoulder to shoulder over a table covered with various documents and hastily scrawled drawings. Kai was nowhere to be seen and I was grateful for at least one soldier who knew how to follow an order to lay low and keep watch.

Talia met my eye carefully the moment before Stryker noticed them in a silent question. My silent nod was enough to make her hands ease away from the weapons I knew she had hidden out of sight though she didn’t relax from her wary stance.

In contrast, Stryker looked strangely relieved at the sight of what was left of my Core. “Talia, Ifrit,” he breathed and gave them a soft smile that made something twist in my chest, “it’s good to see you again. After everything I saw in Hybern, I thought that...”

I winced at the reminder, hearing the scream of arrows cutting through the air of a long gone battleground.

Ifrit glanced at me cautiously before her hands danced through a reply, more formal than her usual style. The grief lingering like a shadow always in the back of our minds pressed closer. I’m glad to see you in one piece after so many years.

His smile looked a little too tight, a little too brittle to be without ghosts. “One day, I’ll have to find out how you managed to hide away in Prythian for so long without raising any alarms. I admit I searched for any sign of you for quite some time.”

That we’d chosen to keep him unknowing of our survival was a blatant challenge in the room that none of my Core chose to acknowledge. Their loyalties, was and always would be to me and each other--no matter how horribly I’d failed them.

Still, the thought of Stryker searching for any signs of what was left of my broken family ached like a bruise. A bitter part of me wanted to pretend that he’d done it to keep them from falling in with his enemies or being taken for Amarantha’s use in the war, but I knew that was beyond even this stranger’s capabilities. I had to believe his affections for me and mine weren’t completely staged.

“What are we doing here?” Talia cut in, her eyes sharp on mine. “I thought you didn’t want to linger.”

Stryker’s gaze snapped to me and I could feel the question and anger there. He didn’t like the idea that I’d intended to give him my warning and just leave. I wondered if he noticed the way he shifted minutely to stand closer, like he intended to reach out and hold me close to him.

“Apparently the Winter Court has fallen to a coup headed by a group attempting to regain a piece of Amarantha’s legacy,” I said, ignoring him and the expressions on my friend’s faces in favor of focusing on the task at hand. There was so many things going unsaid in this room it was dizzying, but we didn’t have the time if Stryker’s prince was to survive the night. So I continued with the same conciseness learned from years of leading a military unit, “Rhone, the second prince, has been accused of murdering his father for political power, but Stryker maintains that this is not the truth.”

“Rhone is not the type of male to attempt to gain power in such a sloppy manner,” Stryker agreed, eager to defend his new family, “and certainly not at the cost of the female he loved.”

I nodded and waited until Ifrit and Talia moved closer to look over the materials. “I agreed to help Stryker retrieve the prince from the cells before Thrace can have him killed for a crime he didn’t commit.”

“Is that so?” Talia murmured, looking up with a mixture of surprise and wariness. “So we’re working for Winter now?”

“No. This is a one time arrangement in return for a favor and, I assume, the gratitude of the Winter Court. We will return home once we set the prince and his spymaster on his way.”

Stryker looked like he wanted to protest the simple review--or the reminder that I wouldn’t stay after it was all said and done. I tried not to think about which one I hoped for. 

After a beat he just nodded and gestured to the paperwork vaguely, “We have to pull him out tonight--before Thrace can have him officially executed. I’ve got an escape route already planned out. I just need a few extra bodies to keep the guards at bay while I retrieve him.”

“Talia,” I said, “do you have any of those sleeping draughts with you?”

“Never leave home without them.”

I looked at Stryker, “You think you could get one of your spies to lace the guards’ nightly meal without getting noticed?”

“Yes, but that won’t take out the entire garrison. The prison guards have a seperate schedule and rotation.” His smile turned rueful, “I had planned on staging a distraction with a few well-placed females, but that was derailed by an unexpected visitor.”

The growl that rumbled out of me was pure territorial fae and I saw his pupils bleed to black in reaction. Ifrit cleared her throat pointedly and I dragged my eyes away from Stryker back to the task at hand. “Talia can make sure there’s enough of a dose to knockout however many guards are in the cell block where Rhone is being held--we need to make sure we don’t take out the whole cell block or we’ll risk attracting attention. Stryker, give her the number of fae to expect and she’ll take care of the rest.”

Stryker nodded, not bothered by my taking charge of this rescue mission so long as it meant Rhone would be saved. “And you?”

“Ifrit and I will set up a distraction here,” I pointed to a courtyard set aside for training drills on the other side of the palace on the map. “Talia will join us after the guards are out and maintain the ruse while I winnow into the cell block and get you and Rhone out of the complex.”

“Winnowing will set off alarms in the building,” Stryker pointed out.

“By the time those alarms sound, the palace will be in such a state of confusion it won’t matter,” I promised, smiling a little wickedly in anticipation. It had been far too long since we’d been able to truly apply ourselves to a mission instead of just training Tamlin’s soldiers. Judging by Talia and Ifrit’s expressions, they were just as excited by the opportunity.

He paused, looking thoughtfully over the maps and documents. Then green eyes were flicking back to me with a degree of faith that made my heart lurch uncomfortably, “You really think you can pull this off?”

I shrugged, pulling on the cloak I’d draped over the back of his makeshift throne. “We survived the worst case scenario before--” Ifrit and Talia flinched and went still beside me, “--This doesn’t even compare.”

_______________________________________________________

The icy winds of Kharos were almost comforting after the extended, uncomfortable session in the Warrens. Ifrit seemed to relax with each minute she spent in the cold and I wondered if the thoughts of her homeland and childhood were enough in the past to gather nostalgia. She deserved to take some comfort in these days. I patted her once on the shoulder before I left her to make her way across the intricate stonework of the inner castle wall towards the courtyard we’d marked and ducked back into the shallow alcove out of sight.

Kai walked silently at my side, near vibrating with the need to ask me a slew of questions about my meeting with Stryker. He was the only one of our number who hadn’t met the spymaster yet and I had a feeling that Stryker’s infamy from wooing and leaving me had left him in near-legendary status among the camp gossips. His eyes darted around the space curiously before he leaned close enough to whisper in my ear.

“I count fourteen guards in position,” he breathed, his words trailing whisps of fog from the chill. 

“Fifteen,” I corrected, nodding toward a cut off shadow leaning against a column. “They’re changing shifts in three minutes--we need to have the distraction in place by then.”

“How big should I go?”

I grinned, “Use your imagination.”

We both paused as a pair of guards moved past us on their way toward the cheerful fires set out to keep them warm. I toyed with the knife tucked into my belt and returned my attention back to Kai, “Ifrit will ensure that no one alerts the garrison of the break-in until we’re ready to go. Talia’s got the gates.”

“What’s our exit strategy?”

A brush of night wind touched the edges of my mind, chasing away thoughts of the fight to come with a near sickening wave of deja vu. Stryker was trying to reopen the mental link between us. I blinked hard and tried to return my focus to Kai, “Our what?”

“Oh my god, we’re all going to die.”

I shoved his shoulder hard enough that he had to scramble to stay upright with a stern look. “Give me a signal if you can’t hold the illusion or if you’re spotted and I’ll come back for you.”

He nodded solemnly, “I’ll do my best imitation of a frightened little girl.”

Rolling my eyes, I tapped his offered fist and leveled a stern look at him. “Be careful.”

“What?” he squawked indignantly as I stepped back into the corridor, “Why are you telling me to be careful? Talia’s way more likely to get into trouble!”

Whatever good humor Kai’s company created disappeared the moment I stepped into the cool darkness and realized just what it would take to complete this impromptu rescue mission. It was the truth that I’d been avoiding during the quick planning session with the others and one I knew Talia and Ifrit had already noticed. I needed to let Stryker back into my head.

My powers rippled eagerly beneath my skin, but they were nothing compared to the near elated energy that burst free from my mangled mate bond. Carefully, I ducked behind a nearby pillar so I was out of sight and hesitantly reached for the shields that had remained in place from the moment I first woke up alone and broken in the Mortal Lands. My hands shook at my side and I pressed them firmly into the cold skin at my back to center myself.

Then, for the first time in eighty years, I reached out to the link that led inexorably back to the other half of my soul.

Instantly, I felt the familiar rush of Stryker’s mind surging through the bond, forcing it to life in near-violent colors and emotions. I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath that tasted like warm summer grasses and the plains of some distant homeland. He felt different now, chiseled and honed by years of strategy and gossip and threats. I wondered how my own mind appeared to him. If he could taste the death that lingered always or the war that was tattoo into every beat of my heart.

Aria, he whispered and the emotion in the word made me shiver. I wanted to sink into the comfort and promise lurking in each syllable and silent entreaty. To let myself disappear into the starry skies and safety that lingered just out of my reach.

A noise nearby jerked me out of my stupor and I yanked my mind back to the present. Shaking my head roughly like I could force my scattered thoughts back into place, I reached for my powers instead and focused at the task at hand.

Ifrit and Talia are in place, I said back as briskly as I could manage. I’m winnowing now.

He didn’t respond, hesitating in a way that felt unfamiliar. I didn’t bother to wait for his permission, just yanked at the thread of magic that ripped me away from the courtyard and into a deserted hallway a few hundred yards away. 

Winnowing without knowing the area well was a risky decision. If I’d mistimed the jump or the map had been slightly off-scale, I could have ended up trapped in a stone wall or impale myself on the iron bars hemming in the windows. The only way I could be sure of landing precisely where I needed to was by following the very mate bond that was driving me slowly insane.

The world came back into focus in jarring clarity and I stumbled artlessly at the rush. Even now, after so many years, my powers still felt rocky and uncertain in my grasp. Like they’d returned as broken as I did from the battle grounds. The power lurking there was still unfamiliar and frightening in its intensity--despite Talia’s reassurance that it would come to my call like before.

Strong hands wrapped around my arms, steadying me even as my knees went shaky in reaction to Stryker’s nearness. His breath felt hot against my skin compared to the cold temperatures outside and I shuddered briefly, trying not to think about the way his thumb brushed a caress against my inner arm. I wanted to lean into the touch, to take him far away from this place of impending violence in favor of somewhere quiet and warm and safe.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

I forced myself to straighten and scan the space around us to give me the time to wrestle my hormones back under control. As promised, Stryker had helped me winnow into one of the less frequently used servant’s passageways just a few turns away from the cells. Unlike the courtyards and main areas of the Winter palace, this was simply decorated with smooth stone ceilings and walls. All of which I knew without checking would be reinforced to prevent prisoners from chiseling their way out.

“Did everything go smoothly with Talia?”

“She slipped the tonic in as planned,” Stryker said, “it should be taking effect any second now.”

“Good,” I nodded, “I need you to check in on them to make sure everything’s going according to plan.” Having a daemati on hand was more than useful in moments like these. The ability to communicate with everyone involved in a covert affair meant I could focus on the task at hand instead of worrying. “Then get to the guard station to secure the ones nearest our secondary exit route--I’ll go get your prince.”

Stryker looked like he wanted to protest splitting up, but the expression on my face must have been enough to prove that wasn’t going to go over well. So he gave me a lazy salute and turned towards the opposite direction of the cells, “I’ll meet you there.”

Be careful, whispered a familiar voice in my mind and I wondered if he meant to send it across the link.

Brushing away the complication of working with my mate once again, I moved down the path I’d memorized previously. At the first station, I was pleased to see two brawny males sprawled across a chair and on the floor nearby. They didn’t move when I padded by them and I sent a silent thanks for Talia’s skill with potions. 

Two more left turns and a right split brought me to a near silent passageway lined with iron bars. Here, I could practically taste the despair that seeped into the stones and painfully warded bars where prisoners would have languished for centuries under Winter rule. Thankfully, Kallias’ reputation for justice and fair punishments went that the majority of the cells remained empty. Though that wasn’t enough to save his son.

The silence in the place was unsettling and I glanced down the maze of hallways with a frown. “Rhone?” I called quietly, hoping to speed up the process of finding Stryker’s lost prince.

Immediately someone scrambled to the edge of the cells and I saw strong hands clamp down around the metal even as a voice, frantic with worry and relief cried out, “Kali?!”

I jogged closer to the sounds, wincing at the sight of the broken man before me. Closely cropped pale blonde hair was streaked with dirt and flaking blood along his hairline to match the scrapes and tears on his clothes and face. The sharp angles of his handsome face already looked gaunt and hollowed by the loss of the female he continued to look for despite the evidence of her death.

“No, Rhone,” I rasped and tried not to think about the way he looked like I did the first times I’d passed a mirror after losing everything, “I--I’m sorry.”

At the sight of me, the manic fire in his eyes dimmed back to pale ice. Rhone turned away to settle heavily on the stained pallet placed against one of the bare walls. He moved like he was injured in some incurable way though there was sign of life threatening injuries. I could practically the disappointment and grief rolling off him in waves.

“Go away.”

The growl in his voice and the anger simmering beneath was the first hint of the male who’d Stryker had pledged his loyalty to despite the title of traitor. I glanced down the hall to where I knew Stryker would be heading this way soon and summoned up as much dark humor as I could. 

“Sorry, princeling,” I said with a sad smile, “I’ve been sent to bust you out.”

Instantly, all of the broken, defeated quiet that had settled on the prince like a cloak vanished behind a wave of violent fury. Pale eyes bright with anger, he crossed the cell in a shocking burst of speed that left him snarling at me through the bars, “Don’t call me that.”

Cautiously, I eyed him and wondered again if Stryker was right to believe this broken, fractured male would be able to stop Thrace’s takeover or whatever group was attempting to break down Prythian from within. Anger was, at least, a familiar companion and I forced myself to remain calm and steady against the force of his. “Touchy, aren’t you?”

“What do you want?” he spat, chest heaving.

Behind me, I could feel the creeping warmth that signaled Stryker was coming closer and shrugged easily, tucking my hands into the pockets of my cloak. “Nothing. I’m just the hired help.”

Both of us looked up when the heavy iron door that sealed this cell block safely away from the rest of palace swung open with a groaning protest. Stryker appeared from the gloom with two massive wolves at his side and hurried over to us. I eyed the wolves cautiously, but they ignored me in favor of pressing against the bars with worried noises directed at the male beyond. Green eyes flashed in the dim light as he swept an assessing look over me before turning his attention to his friend.

My eyes narrowed dangerously at the dismissal, but I bit my tongue. Like hell I’d acknowledge the way the beast within craved to be the center of Stryker’s attention.

“You look like shit,” Stryker said to the prince and went to work on the door with a set of keys I knew he must have stolen from somewhere.

As soon as it swung open, Rhone stepped into the hallway where the wolves surged closer and patted their heads absently. His focus remained fixed on the spymaster and even I winced sympathetically at the raw hope in his expression. “Did you find her?”

Stryker looked down, a muscle feathering in his jaw. “I’m sorry, Rhone. I--By the time I got here, they were already moving the bod--her.”

There was a pause where we all tried to pretend like the news wasn’t a blade sinking deeper into a mortal wound.

“Where did they take her?”

“I’m not sure,” Stryker said uneasily and glanced back at me like I might know the answer. “Thrace moved his special division into the palace grounds to ‘keep the peace’ and Vivianne has locked herself away to...to grieve.” The name was enough to bring a decades old jealousy roaring to the forefront of my mind and I saw Stryker wince when the ripples reached him through our link. I wanted to snarl, to reach out and mark him as mine mine mine, but I knew that was no longer true. “I arranged a way for you to get out of the palace before Thrace could officially order your execution, but we need to move quickly.” 

To give myself an outlet for the irritation brewing between me and my former mate, I walked away from the males to the end of the hallway so I could look down the outer corridor. “We need to hurry--Talia said the sleeping draught wouldn’t last much longer.”

Stryker nodded and reached for Rhone’s cuffs, unlocking them quickly. Rhone sucked in a relieved breath as his magic returned and I tried not calculate what it would take to bring him down if he decided to turn those powers into the world around him in a maelstrom of grief.

But instead of walking towards the exit, Rhone gestured to Stryker. “Give me your weapon.”

Surprised, Stryker stared at him, “What? Don’t worry about that right now. There’s weapons and a horse waiting for you outside.”

The abrupt change in the prince’s mood and focus seemed to set Stryker on edge. I shot another worried glance down the hallway, trying to calculate how long we had before the guards knew we’d drugged them. Kai’s illusions too, couldn’t be expected to hold off so many for so long. We needed to be moving, not arguing.

Rhone reached again for the blade and this time Stryker let him draw it from his scabbard. His hand tightened around the worn leather grip. “I’m not leaving.”

Now it was Stryker’s panic and fear swamping the bond and I wondered if he knew how much of his inner thoughts were leaking over to me. Clearly I’d underestimated the bond between these two males. What exactly was Rhone to Stryker?

“What? You have to leave--Thrace is now High Lord, Rhone. He won’t allow you to live so long as you know how that came to be.”

“Not if I kill him first.” Rhone’s tone was flat, resolute. 

The nihilistic part of me recognized the icy resolve in his voice. Here was a male who was prepared to rage. To rip apart the world if need be until the blood of those responsible for his mate’s life was painted across it. It was exactly what I’d craved when I’d stood over Jace for the last time. I smiled viciously at the prince and felt a surge of understanding for the broken prince. “That’s more like it.”

Stryker whirled on me with the same frustrated expression I remembered from so long ago. “Aria--don’t encourage this. There is no way he could manage to take on Thrace on his own, let alone the rest of his miniature army.”

I shrugged. “He won’t be alone.”

Stryker cursed, running his fingers through his shaggy hair. He looked at Rhone, standing there with his sword still brandished and sighed. “No,” he said quietly. “No, he won’t be alone.”

Slowly I smiled and tried not to think about the warm feeling in my chest that reminded me of all the reasons I’d fallen for Stryker once upon a time. Rhone watched me with a carefully neutral expression and I forced whatever emotions were welling to the surface away in favor of focusing on the problem at hand.

“Aria,” Stryker turned to me with a serious expression. “Can you manage it?”

I knew without asking what Stryker was asking, what he wanted me to risk. When we’d planned this rescue, it was always with the goal of slipping in and out without significant disruption. Now, with a dishonored prince seeking revenge and a traitor lurking somewhere nearby, we needed something spectacular to draw eyes away from Thrace.

“Of course.” The words were easy with the reckless anticipation that simmered in my veins like a drug. Mother knew I preferred an open assault to quiet subterfuge--that was more Stryker’s style. Some of my thoughts must have read across our link because he rolled his eyes at me with a hint of a smile twitching at his lips.

“We need a distraction to draw them away from Thrace’s quarters. Fifteen minutes should be enough to get Rhone in and out if he doesn’t get distracted.”

“Darling, I am always a distraction,” I drawled with a mocking tilt of my hips mimicking the cocky way he’d once teased me. Before he could respond, I let my body dissolve in a burst of wind and ozone.


End file.
